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The Brink
Contributed by
ediii
on
Saturday, 31st March 2007 @ 05:55:30 PM in AEST
Topic:
drugabuse
|
On the brink of sadness a creature sits
with streaks of shadows on tight fists,
unable to fight and bear those arms
convulsively collapsing under mindless harms.
Making up stories of perception they see,
the ones down there she looks at in their impervious glee,
and trying to reach but too scared to fall off.
So much safer to stay up there. Hug her knees. Withdraw.
And when they climb up to her fortress of ice
with stone hard bed stained by tears of spice,
she runs and collapses further away
as she likes the feeling of the needle in the hay.
Then, again, lays over the brink risking the fall,
reaching for those who pass her in the hall.
They look up and follow that outstretched hand
to see a hopeful face in a soul drenching land.
From interest to disdain their eyes take path.
After seeing that once more she can do the math.
So she runs and trips and lands further away,
bleeding out spice and trying to pray,
but when it all fails again and all stays the same
she knows the cause as she's the one to blame.
Copyright ©
ediii
... [
2007-03-31 17:55:30] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Brink
(User Rating: 1 ) by aloneinthememory on
Saturday, 31st March 2007 @ 07:03:44 PM AEST (User
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Aww this is such a sad poem filled with lots of emotion. I feel for you. I love this poem.
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