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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:31:04 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 4641
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => letting Go
[time] => 2002-10-05 14:05:47
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] =>
Isn’t it true and so very much you? To break your nails hanging out there, Scratched and bloodied to the quick, Hopelessly desperate, edging to despair. High wire baby; an amateur, maybe, But you almost make it a career, To dance along that flimsy filament of pain And joy that you seem to so need and fear. Don’t take offence, but you never make sense, As clutching fingers hold on and bleed, Flailing wildly to cling to something, Neither meant for you or what you need. Still you hold on, though all purpose gone. Worn out and humiliated at the sight Of yourself grasping in such vain anguish At emptiness, just a moth trapped in the light. Let go of it all, lay back and just fall. Try something you never thought you could, A soft landing, perhaps, that may even let you say: ‘I miss you... but not quite as much as I should.’ [comments] => 1 [counter] => 163 [topic] => 22 [informant] => melis [notes] => [ihome] => 1 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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