by-Matthew F. Blowers III

Life can be

a slippery ledge,

balancing precariously

between,

happiness

and madness.

Up against the bricks,

with our back to the wall,

one must have an edge,

to grip when they totter.

Whether it be love,

friendship,

poetry, music,

dreams or just hope.

Some extension to grasp

that prevents our falls,

into the oblivion of despair.

One must get a

hold on themselves,

before they can

hold on for others.

The wall runs for decades,

only death will get you over it,

and the ledge fluctuates from thin to wide,

but there are windows of opportunity

through which you can escape,

the constant flailing at thin air.

Face the wall and hold on,

find something concrete,

and keep moving toward it.

Some where a warm

window beckons,

just around the corner,

with a smiling face within,

anxiously awaiting your arrival