Take Two,Three and Four

A poem about being unsure and mixed signals

Gazing at the finish line
eyes fixed firmly on the mark
the mark that could figure the rest of my life
be it good
be it bad
my decision will be the uprising or the downfall of my very being

And there you stand
I can't decipher whether you want me to come nearer
keep my distance, I will if need be
You're not helping me
I shout silently
you don't hear me
well obviously
my soul cries out
the whistle is blown
its screech lingers in my ears
I run
I keep running
I close my eyes as I run
I'm running on air
on a cloud
and you catch me
safely in your arms I catch my breathe
then you cast me away
like an avalanche racing ferociously downhill
I fall so fast gravity is against me
like you
then you're at the bottom of the mountain
you carry me in your arms
and into the heavens
realms of peace surround me.


The End

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