I’m sick to death of caring
Of trying and begging and fighting
Looking down on that hedge
From the edge of this ledge
Makes jumping sound very inviting.
Finale
April 2, 2008 by Shirley Allard
April 2, 2008 by Shirley Allard
I’m sick to death of caring
Of trying and begging and fighting
Looking down on that hedge
From the edge of this ledge
Makes jumping sound very inviting.
lol I just read your reply. You make me smile. Ali
I agree, Jodi. It seems like the painful moments come through louder and clearer than the joyful ones for some reason! Thanks.
one of the most glorious things about poetry,, is how it just pours itself onto the page when i feel down or angered or stressed… something about that is magical….
Hey Oz, Love and whining…aren’t they the same thing!
sounds like love to me
I don’t think so Bob. It’s just called whining I think.
The eternal mother’s struggle. Jump or catch… jump or catch… what to do, what to do… Brings new insight to someone who insists upon being the one walking the ledge. This reads like a limerick… is it?
Ok, but I’m going first so I can catch you! LOL
Shirley, you KNOW I love this kind of punchline poetry. Just awesome. If you jump, I jump
Ali
Hi Kerri, Don’t worry. I spend too much time trying to catch other people to jump! Just one of those days. Thanks anyway.
just don’t jump