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Precarious
Why must I search…
For love or emotional concern…
I treat others like myself…
Fear of falling from high…
Above…
Feet not grounded…
Yes…I am bounded…
To jester…
And strong attitude…
Weak in respect…
All tantamount to failure…
So…I depend on pleasure…
And why not…
It is the zenith of my day…
I am not okay…
Because I am in that way…
Lacking in stability…
As dangerous as it maybe…
Why must I search…
Are…the compliments so…
I can be bed…
And not wed…
Many nice things are said…
And demonstrated as true…
So…why am I so blue…
In my mirror I see smiles…
Thinking I have a foot hold…
On life…
But as yet…
I am not a wife…beep, beep.
And I rush for my date…
Whisperkwane
swtlamb@yaho o.com
poem
by
whisperkwane Lamb
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