Precarious

Why must I search…
For love or emotional concern…
I treat others like myself…

Fear of falling from high…
Above…
Feet not grounded…

Yes…I am bounded…
To jester…
And strong attitude…

Weak in respect…

All tantamount to failure…
So…I depend on pleasure…
And why not…

It is the zenith of my day…
I am not okay…
Because I am in that way…

Lacking in stability…
As dangerous as it maybe…
Why must I search…

Are…the compliments so…
I can be bed…
And not wed…

Many nice things are said…
And demonstrated as true…
So…why am I so blue…

In my mirror I see smiles…
Thinking I have a foot hold…
On life…
But as yet…
I am not a wife…beep, beep.

And I rush for my date…



Whisperkwane
swtlamb@yahoo.com

by kwane Lamb

Other poems of LAMB (249)

Comments (5)

So true, and so beautifully expressed! Friends, family and neighbours cannot believe that you should possess talent and the will power to make it bloom. It all goes down to the old saying: Nothing good can ever come out of Nazareth.
Wise words, , , , , , , , , , , , , , You have to like it better than being loved.
So very much truth in this poem! Think I've got another favorite poet to add to my list!
That is outstanding, Marge Piercy. I was sent here by my friend Rosemary Nissen - Wade. For once I am glad that I did what I was told! Thank you both.
I guess you're write, I mean right. That's the difference between writers and talented writers.