With a nod to the crap poets society. And because I’ve been trying to avoid this for a week. And it wanted to be written. And so, because I blog, I inflict.
So ignore. Or click.
In a willing waiting game
(A subtle shift from there to here)
I watch the seagulls fighting
But every time you ask me this
I feel the twist
I sense the knot
I know you think the world is flat
I’m too awake to argue
But when the rolling game is up
I know I’ll fall. I know I’ll fall.
Through the sky
And through the dawn
And through the darkened lightening
I know I’ll fall. I know.
So why am I still wanting?