That
gypsy knows one step at a time
leads
her out from the pit of despair
into
the air to breathe, breathe in,
freedom
from love’s sad malady.
How
long, how long, she asks of no one
before
she misses all the weak spots
that
send her tumbling head over heels
down
to the bottom again?
Time
this time is not on her side
and
she knows to rush to the top
but
still there’s the fear weak spots will appear
in
places and times beyond her foresight.
She
ferrets somewhere for strength to endure
and
for patience to be certain and sure
that
where she treads is stable and set
to
bear the burden she must dissipate.
There
she goes! She’s made it halfway
and
tomorrow, tomorrow, perhaps tomorrow
she’ll
finally, finally, emerge unscathed
from
a pit that no longer exists!
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