Poetry Journal

Who?

If the angles call,
who responds?
If someone falls,
who's there to give them a hand?
If the shadows dance,
where is their music?
If the books change,
who's pulling the strings?
Why do we call,
yet receive no response?
Why is it that the falls
seem so attached?
Is there a reason for it all,
or is it just this way and that?
Who gives the call,
helps you up after you fall,
seem to know it all?
Well,
I may know,
You may know,
But neither of use chose to accept our impending downfall.