The Edge
It's hard to see how close we are to the edge.
We'd be dead with just one step.
Just one move--we'd lose our way.
Every day, on the brink of insane
A fragile line to separate the sides
A subtle pull holding wrong from right
Just one tear could break the thread.
A fatal mess when the white meets the red.
It's a battle on the inside.
My demons and my conscience--a constant fight.
Won't You come to me and give me strength,
Lest black and white do fade and turn to grey.
This poem is about:
Our world