a poem i wrote when the thirst was real



pardon my thirst

for I am quite parched

I have been walking along

The endless space of tiny grains

And the sweat has been the only liquid

My walk has slowed, my patience has lessened

And I see a drop from you but it’s not close enough

So if I appear frustrated or too eager, it’s due to your unknowing tease

With the possibility of finally quenching my perennial thirst