I feel like I am walking on a tightrope
Gently balancing myself
On the thin line
Between trying too hard
And letting go
I sway to one side
More often than the other
And I am finding it difficult
To regain my balance
Tension: tendons stretched
In straight lines.
Of the body, poised,
Strings in harmony
Curtain call, purple
Controlled: a whirling,
About a bottle of wine. For every couplet, take a sip. ;-)
[What crawls on all fours at dawn, stands on two feet at noon and walks on three legs at dusk?]
You’ve become a balancing act despite yourself
Walking on eggshells through life’s top-shelf
Carrying a pole burdened by different weights
You’re an acrobat on the tightrope of fates
The path is a straight and the line is taut
The rope is thick and absent of any kind of knot
You started your journey unsure and on all fours
Overwhelmed by the amount of closed doors
With time, conscience and courage grew
You stood up and the fours became two
You saw clearer and a bit more further
To walk that rope, you felt worthier...
And yet that pole causes you to struggle
The load of both ends in constant juggle
You need to stop and recalculate
Find that perfect equilibrium of the weight
It takes more than an attempt to succeed
Patience and wisdom essential to supersede
For when you do, that pole becomes obsolete
No longer needed as an aid for your feat
Instead it becomes a traveller with your feet
And so two become three- the act is nearly complete
Horizontal, the pole was a burden
Vertical, it became a companion...
You walk at a steady pace
Not a stroll nor a race..
You enjoy having found that control
There’s contentment in your soul
For the struggle was not reaching the goal
But changing the purpose of that pole
Accepting the load you carried as your own
Understanding it was part of you..to your very bone
The choice to fight it was yours to make
But your path was what always remained at stake
He is afraid of his future
Unsure what path to walk
Upon his tightrope of pressure
He walks without a safety net
If he looks down he falls
If he looks up he becomes dizzy
His only option is to look straight ahead
Eventually he will reach the other side to safety
But it isn’t about the start or the end
It is about the journey and the adventure in between
It will work itself out
If he keeps a level head and his balance is set
He will see his future fall in place before it's met
And kiss the thin rope he had tread
As it took him on the path that showed to him
The meaning of destiny, fate, and chance
Running when you shouldn't be,
racing for the exits.
Jumping for the nearest window,
though every part of you says it:
Don't even try it.
You won't make the leap.
The glass is only touched by a finger- tip.
You're walking a tightrope and the ***** is steep.
Risk- taking is good. In some situations.
he walked on a tightrope with your glass heart
lost the plot in the story your eyes told
and when his balance followed, your world became one million tiny shards of fear
I spent the rest of my life picking up the pieces
And only got to 999,999.
This is about losing someone to commitment issues. It's a particularly conflicting heartbreak that consists of so much love, yet so much contrast and confusion. You may or may not be the love of my life, but regardless, these words are for you.
My tightrope stretched across the void.
Unimaginable pain on one side;
a new uncharted land on the other.
Balancing anger, pain, loss and a sack of regrets,
I concentrated on the next step and no further.
With no sense of what may lay beyond,
I went on.
Carrying loss. Fearing change. Carrying on nevertheless.
Love and practicality
A ladder leading into a tumbling dryer
Dangerous and blurred
Flowers with roots to hidden caves,
Caves known as the "heart and soul",
Which we keep hidden
A tightripe balanced over the sea,
Inescapable and thrilling