Tetter-tottering mind,
like a child,
I sit there,
caught between
the ups and downs,
centered, off balance.
A precarious perch,
where the weight
of heavy thought,
is never taken off,
but only tips the scales
in neither direction,
only remaining lopsided
and unsymmetrical.
Its a struggle of sides
and will,
that cannot be alligned,
to a central point.
It just rests,
unstable,
waiting for either
the heads up,
of the ascend,
or the nose-dive,
of the fall.