PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

With everything set in its proper place,

Chances handed me on a silver plate

I still took somehow such a fall from grace.

I always feared the day would come

When I'd fumble the ball and they'd run with it

Like house flies on a ripened plum

Half-eaten in the sunshine.

Now it's here and I have to say

Though I knew there would come this day

I never thought it would cut so deep

So much so as to invade my sleep.

It's wormed its way in like a silent disease;

Leeches feeding whenever they please

As though the forces at hand have no choice at all

But to set me up for failure, see that I fall,

Losing sight of Grace and all her glories

While plunging down her building's stories.