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Christopher Blanck
Poems
Nov 2012
Can (not) be helped
Feeling Low;
Not sure if it's any lower than before.
Heavy Expectations;
Weights strapped to backs of unwilling divers.
Can't ascend too quickly for fear of the bends.
Can't descend indefinitely or I'll never resurface again.
It's unavoidable some say;
Persuaded paths led me the furthest I've ever been away.
Just one tree in the forest of many;
Suspended solitary in swaying breeze
Waiting to be turned into a magazine.
Written by
Christopher Blanck
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