Sunday, March 20, 2011

How Long is Now

You walk on a motherfucking high wire
Each step an intense task, each new footfall
Ecstatic victory. We all admire
That you proudly show us you will not crawl.
But each triumph gives way to new tension
Another chance to fail, to fall, and find
Yourself beaten by the wire. Suspension
Such as yours was only ever designed
To last so long, one end to the other
But you tight-rope-walk a trail without end
You let temporary tension smother
Long-term planning, a fatal flaw, my friend.
     And I know you can't tell that this is dire
     'Cause you can't see the forest for the fire.

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