The Tightrope Walker

From a young age

She walked on a thin tightrope

Twisting and turning

Never a net

Always fearing falling

.

Eating a bitter red apple

She left the job

To never return

In physicality

.

Pacing though

On lines painted fog

She walks across

What I see as

Flat ground

.

Old now

She trembles

And

A foot out of line

She falls

For her

Into deep emptiness

To me

Onto the pavement

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