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The Line

September 21, 2016
By LibbyPoetry SILVER, Kennesaw, Georgia
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LibbyPoetry SILVER, Kennesaw, Georgia
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We walk the line.
It used to be defined,
But he took his paintbrush
And blurred the edges.
Now I slip and slide,
Questioning the line.
The end could be near,
But I walk the line
For his heart.
If I fall it will shatter.
I will shatter.
But his paintbrush strokes
The line away
Until I’m destined
To fall alone.

© Seita O., Palatine, IL

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"Sometimes the world tries ot knock it out of you. But I believe in music the way that some people believe in fairy tales." August Rush(2007)

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