I lie in the midst
Of this precarious structure,
Wondering
how it
Stays up.
I mean, really, it’s half-broken,
(It wasn’t our fault,
We borrowed this thing),
So indeed
What a bad bit of luck.
When we first discovered,
There were no alternatives
So we had to
Tie snapped strings
Together.
We said it would be alright,
It’d make do,
As we pushed up
The precarious
Structure.
And now lying inside it,
I can’t help but thinking
Our rough-and-ready job
Did well.
I mean, it hasn’t collapsed yet,
I’d say that’s a bonus
This lumpy mess of canvas, pegs and poles
From hell.
(Of course I’m not serious.
It’s quite a nice tent,
But the cords had been snapped
And the tent pegs were bent.)
YOU ARE READING
Parts of Me
PoetryWhenever you read one of my poems You hold a part of me, And it hides in my brain or beating heart Now I give it to thee. You may hold this precious Part For a while, at least. So treat it well, respect my thoughts, And there shall be a peace. For i...
