Skip to main content
Beaten down, I fell—
f a l l i n g—to the ground.
A puff of dirt rose up around me. 
Seething, I could only stand 
and wash my hands clean. 
Clean of the soot, the grit, and the waiting. 
My body is battered, 
but my hands are clean.
Rating
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.