Poets Pen: The Edge

On, the edge I stand

looking down

towards a lover’s hand.

On the edge I am

standing tall

to, the door I must not slam.

On the edge I see

looking down

your eyes staring back at me.

On, the edge I fall

looking back

to the past now left behind.

On, the edge I am no more

looking forward

to the love now burning in my core.

On the edge

so it may have been

but sometimes one must jump

to witness that which can not be seen.

In love felt

and stored within the heart

such is the story and that is the start…

images (30)

© JR Robberts 2017

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