I hold out my hand,
always searching.
His hand brushes mine,
I'm clinging tight and trembling,
Together we climb.
Tirelessly we fight.
Once at great height,
we balance,
flawlessly dancing on the wire.
It's time to jump,
I stare into his eyes,
fearing our hands might fail us.
He pushes me over,
and together we fall,
finding beauty and bliss,
refusing to allow our hands to miss.
*I realize love poems aren't really a thing I have in the book. You'll have to forgive me.
Anyway thanks for reading!
YOU ARE READING
Speaking to Lost Souls
PoetryA collection of thoughts and emotion. Forgive me. I have a poet's soul, but not a poet's pen.
