TAG» poetry
Lost
Somehow, I fell
Off of the track.
I tried to walk
Down the middle
Of a precarious
Situation.
There is no white
Or black
Only gray,
Numb, no feeling,
Like Novocain.
Later, tiny red marks
Left behind, very sore.
I am left behind.
Keep writing.
Why?
Because it
Has chosen me.
The bits and pieces
Painfully wrought.