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My Heart Can Take It (I'm Just Worried About The Bones).
by Andrew S Adamswe can talk ourselves roundabout
this isn't going to go anywhere;
for every push and pull put
precariously close to the edge,
there's a hope that one day
you might make up your mind;
and so, i hold close to the rope you've thrown
hoping that either you will reel me in
or let go altogether;
sitting suspended while still slightly
sympathetic to these senseless sea changes
like schoolchildren chasing each other back and
forth from synapse to synapse;
this playground holds a slow-motion swingset
that i am
oh
so
close to falling off of;
i'll hang on as long as i can,
but i won't be surprised when
i walk away with broken bones. 06/26/2007 Author's Note: hmm... i don't know if i executed this correctly.
Posted on 06/27/2007
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 06/27/07 at 01:45 PM Ohhhhh. I think it was perfectly executed, it drew me right in and touched the place where I relate oh-so-well. Thank you. |
| Posted by Elizabeth Seago on 08/05/07 at 07:44 AM Oh so oh so oh so! I had to- all the cool kids were doing it. Your work is fantastic. +favorites. Fantastic piece. I wish I could converge my thoughts onto paper as well as you do. |
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