there are times when the ground is so close
the falling seems happens in slow motion
you may find yourself drifting through
the past repeating missteps
falling all over again
the sky with all its magic peers down
wonders how you have turned into
a face it no longer recognizes
why you won’t look up so she can
bathe you in the beauty you have always been
there are times when lifting your head
is an act so difficult
the altitude too much and rather than
fall from a grace you are not sure you deserve
you coffin your pillow and lay prone
waiting for a call to remind you who you are
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