by Michael Plante

Intuitively  I push the envelope to the edge-
Mother asked why?
I could never answer.
Scribed on the envelope was My Life
details nobody knew about.
The thoughts taken into a nightmare
exposed my weakness
and fortified my tenacity.

The envelope teetered on the edge
of life and death.
The weight of nightmares pulls it to the darkness
while sunshine pushed it back.
The balance was precarious at best,
it’s the best life I could live.

All compositions that appear on The Poet’s House are composed by Michael Plante and are subject to copyright.

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