I was doing some clearing out recently and came across a couple of poems I'd scribbled a few years ago. Having just read Nabila's poem about falling I thought this one of mine is quite topical. ooh and I mustn't forget to thank SG for the title suggestion and word correction!
Question
Is it possible that the fence,
in its proverbial form,
could remain in place to be
straddled indefinitely;
that the downward spiral
could be teetered on for all
eternity without causing
the slipping, sliding, and
forcing of a reluctant heart
to leave imagined safety?
Is living too easy until a strange
pain has squeezed and rocked
and shoved into decline the
fibre of sensibility that has held
life together, causing a
casting away, a freefall, a
paraglide into the uncertainty
and unreliability when all
pretence left behind reveals
newness, rawness, need?
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