Here I am
floating by my tin can,
just a man feeling
the girth of the earth;
the weight of the world.
The only space that ever concerned me
was the empty one inside me.
It hides me from this life’s mission.
I keep giving my heart permission to soar
but once more it is left at the gate. And so I wait.
Love, once lighter than air can scare the living
Color out of this duller than life fellow.
For all I know, ground control has one goal
and it seems I’m just not getting it.
I’ll forget flying solo, never getting so low
that the ground poses problems.
I’m taking a shot. I’m not going anywhere
if I can’t achieve air! But make it clear,
falling in love isn’t really that bad.
It’s just that the landing always kills me!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2015

***Poetic Asides with Robert Lee Brewer – Prompt 294: State of <BLANK>


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