tipping point

I live on

A precipice

Somewhere between

The light 

And the dark

The good and the 

Bad

And whatever it

Is 

Or was 

I sought 

Seems to be

Hanging 

Just 

At the end

Of the next 

Bottle 

Or cul-de-sac

And I'm sure 

I can get there

Find it

Make it

Pinch it

With one more

Go 

Or drink

Or visit 

Or dime 

And everything 

Will be

Well

Better?

Different?

Or maybe 

It will just be

As is

As was 

Or waiting

And 

I'll get there 

When 

I'm ready 

◄ Kids

The butter man ►

Comments

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 25th Jan 2016 13:01

I like this - no surprise there - but I'm struggling just a little with the 'precipice' metaphor. I'm not sure it's really what you meant as your poem develops its theme. It's just my opinion, always open to return flack. I'm trusting we are on such a foothold as to make this possible.

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