Each one a part

of my soul, so which 

part is mine anymore?

Who are you 

looking for in me? Will

you be disappointed when

my failure is enough to 

leave.

I feel everything yet

you think the void is

impossible to fill. Do you

even see the rim?

Solidity a compromise for

a feeling that makes you 

fly, frees the soles of all

those who partake in the 

throes, but did you?

Fly?

Glide along. Take time on each 

face, they remember you, remember

the pain. Was your failure enough,

for them to leave? Where you at least

relieved? 

Did the plentiful falling 

expectations remove the ever 

warm rubber from your soul,

to be where they all said you

would be, a slave to defeat,

a victim to passion misborn.  

Who are you looking

for?

Ponder the pressure

of prescene. Gifts guiding glances

directions decidedly discarded with

no discretion. 

Karma crafts all creation. What 

did you create? Who did you 

find in me. 

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