The Tightrope

By , Bellevue, WA
I walk atop a tightrope
tightly it is strung
whether I stand, or I fall
I am unwanted, unseen, unsung

As I walk upon my tight rope
beneath me the net not hung
safe as long as I keep going
but I'm unwanted, unseen, unsung

My footing slips when I hear something
I fall from my rope so tightly strung
I do not scream, it doesn't matter
I am unwanted, unseen, unsung

My hand catches on the thread
Now by my fingers I am hung
Tear drops fall from my eyes
But I am unwanted, unseen, unsung

Drops of blood run from my fingers
From the thread which still is strung
But I cannot feel the pain
I am unwanted, unseen, unsung





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