#WritcoPoemPrompt6
The river that flows down the hill,
Is never able to be a moment still,
The rocks and pebbles at it's edge,
Lie as steady as the dead,
This is...life ,
let go...or make your , existence..count,
The seed, that has been buried..,
deep...down ,
Needs to grow , Needs to be..giving ,
And... forgiving..,
Knowing, the fact..of being burned,
Or being...cut down,
This is...life ,
let go...or make your, existence..count,
The free.. little bird,
Flies, through the Jungle,
through the cities ,
through the villages,...