A Foxtrot Above

A foxtrot above my head,
simply to feel alive, not dead.

A tango with my heart dancing to my soul,
powering the essence, am I whole?

The feeling of lost so strong,
rawling at me; where do you belong?

Their hands so tender and so small,
inside mine, capturing it all

Fog in my nature denial of the truth,
never as it seems lying to the youth

K. 2010

Ingen kommentarer: