Friday, April 14, 2006

My Friend

You touch me
And like on water, the ripples go out
Quietly they lap against the bank
Barely making a mark on the sand

But the undertow is fierce
It's pulling my feet out from under
It's taking the breath from my lungs
It's sweeping me along for the ride

The surface comes too late
For peace of mind
The panic has already set in
The fear has already taken hold

What do you want from me?
What can I give to you?
What if I can't?
What if I fail?

Will you touch me again?

1 comment:

Amanda said...

Very good!