Falling

It feels like a while since I dragged out something a little older. This is something I wrote, but never showed to my poetry class (pretentious bastards!) not really, but it was intimidating. I feel like this poem is typically dark, I write a lot of dark emotional things, but I like it reading back over it with fresh eyes and some of it I admit is a little clumsy (didn't like the last stanza- so why keep it you ask) - because even though I find the "babe" line clieche and a little like reverting to babyhood (and so a bit too oedipal) I like the last line! Anyway, enough of my yabbering. Here it is! Have a read, post a comment. I couldn't agree more with the hope and message, I think we all need to keep picking ourselves up everyday. Something I still need a bit of help with, but that's life right?

Falling

Life changes very little,

All I know is it comes and goes,

I’ve seen it snow on several occasions;

I’ve even felt the thunder trickling in the sky,

And seen it smack into the hard earth…

I felt it jostle me…and I fell

But life never changes if you don’t get up

The ground is tough moist, ridden with blood

Then the sky cleared and you get up again,

But you always topple over,

Like a toddler on his training wheels,

Or the black crow…striving to find his place in the millions

His eyes are black, but they are his own

Is it nobler to succumb to woe, or to deny such a fate of anyone

Is what is hard…always the right thing?

Falling, becomes a habit, sometimes it seems we only keep falling

Thud,thud,thud…hard on the bitumen

The bright lights…gleaming, whether now or later

What does it matter…how long one has,

Till the last fall

Life changes little, but this I hold on to

A warmth a glow…

That place where I can snuggle, tighter than a babe

Right between your warm embrace

Your arms will pick me up,

When I fall