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#balancing
He went to bed Clouds in his eyes Counting the sheep jumping in the skies Balancing columns high up in the air Above the world beneath his hair
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Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 3:46 AM UTC
Balancing Columns
I need a mountain of a man, To handle my stubborn, strong-headed nature. I need a mountain of a man, To help me balance the world on my shoulders. I need the man who sees, understands. The one who hugs my trembling body When I cry, When I fall… Until I rise above it all, Until I’m strong again To stand And balance the world On my delicate shoulders.
0
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 4:32 AM UTC
Mountain of a man
You asked if you could see me before I lost my mind, I pushed back 'cause I was busy and it turned out that you went blind. I know that speaking can still be a medicine, but if the boat's leaking you don't let more water in. Daily I read the news only to seek out the star signs, today's lit a fuse literally and inbetween all of the lines, and I must've read it over and over, about half a million times, took the paper into a folder and made it into rhymes. Now I'm living as a shell, casing in an outdated ghost. Stuck in a purgatory hell, sailing back and forth; riding the coast. But if I balance on the tightrope, I might make it to the other side. Clench my toes and then pray for hope, and hold on for the slow painful ride. I've been starving at a king's feast, while the sun's been setting in the east. I've been rioting while keeping the peace, while the sun's been setting in the east. If I stand still long enough I may fight the urge to shake, I need a pill to make me strong and tough but it's the pill that makes me break, and if I ask more favours of this world it just might turn to quake, but I'll sit back and let it savour before I start to ache. But you can see the snow piling into overload, and you can tell yourself the sky's still blue, but if you slide and drift through an open road, your mind might not tell you what to do. You'll feel your heart rise than drop, as you struggle to stop. Now I'm living in a shell, casing in an outdated ghost. The story's longer than I could ever tell, but the message behind it is what matters the most. But if I balance on the tightrope, I might make it to the other side. The string rises on into a slope, I'll just pray my foot doesn't slide. I've been starving at a king's feast, while the sun's been setting in the east. I've been only getting what I need least, while the sun's been setting in the east.
0
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 4:48 PM UTC
Balancing Act
You asked if you could see me before I lost my mind, I pushed back 'cause I was busy and it turned out that you went blind. I know that speaking can still be a medicine, but if the boat's leaking you don't let more water in. Daily I read the news only to seek out the star signs, today's lit a fuse literally and inbetween all of the lines, and I must've read it over and over, about half a million times, took the paper into a folder and made it into rhymes. Now I'm living as a shell, casing in an outdated ghost. Stuck in a purgatory hell, sailing back and forth; riding the coast. But if I balance on the tightrope, I might make it to the other side. Clench my toes and then pray for hope, and hold on for the slow painful ride. I've been starving at a king's feast, while the sun's been setting in the east. I've been rioting while keeping the peace, while the sun's been setting in the east. If I stand still long enough I may fight the urge to shake, I need a pill to make me strong and tough but it's the pill that makes me break, and if I ask more favours of this world it just might turn to quake, but I'll sit back and let it savour before I start to ache. But you can see the snow piling into overload, and you can tell yourself the sky's still blue, but if you slide and drift through an open road, your mind might not tell you what to do. You'll feel your heart rise than drop, as you struggle to stop. Now I'm living in a shell, casing in an outdated ghost. The story's longer than I could ever tell, but the message behind it is what matters the most. But if I balance on the tightrope, I might make it to the other side. The string rises on into a slope, I'll just pray my foot doesn't slide. I've been starving at a king's feast, while the sun's been setting in the east. I've been only getting what I need least, while the sun's been setting in the east.
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42
misty in the back yard walking along the perimeter socks getting soggy it’s barely first light peering on the horizon still no I’m Sorry the wind whips my face i cry from the pain on the soles of my feet on this wire i’ll stay balancing act practice never lets out calling all the famous talent scouts make me into the final act that everyone laughs at instead
0
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 5:03 PM UTC
the wIre
it's all just one big balancing act on rope that's slowly getting more and more frayed with every half step or jump or skip. No one ever thought that a net would be worth installing, what's the risk of falling when no one wants to take the plunge? It's zero. Not ground of course, but you get the idea. take a walk with me.
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Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 5:58 AM UTC
tightrope walker.
In balancing of the opposites a harmonious state is the end result; one can then see beyond oneself which some people call the occult. Through self-mastery in one's life comes a certain transcendence and any individual thus blest gains a unique level of independence. _________________________________________
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
Quatrain #238 - In balancing of the opposites....