Something must be said.
Something must be done.
All colors turn to black
and back–
It’s got me on the run.

I don’t know where I’m running to
or what I’m running from.

I don’t want to
ask for any
help from you–
I want to know
I’ll manage fine
all by myself,
in my own time. . .

But when my time
ticks much too slow,
I just might need
to grasp your hand,
to feel more brave,
walk all around
my ravaged land,
with you in tow.

I may even need
to tour you through
my damaged house,
and maybe dare
to let you see
me argue with my spouse. . .

And I just know,
you’ll never

But, without you
on my team,
it truly seems
I’ll slip and fall,
into a viscous

in which I’ll sink,
and, flailing, frightened,
sink more still,
with quite the lack
not just
of solid ground,
but also, strength of will,
which makes escape
a daunting task. . .

But perhaps
it simply
had to come to pass–
disaster hit
with stinging slap,

I’d ever
open up my iron gate,
and well-barred door,
to see if you
will come right in–

If only I will ask.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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