Feels like I'm walking on a tightrope,
Can't hardly breathe
While eyes look through a kaleidoscope,
It becomes difficult to believe
The hues form a combination
Delicate like fragile glass,
On the brink of contemplation
Waiting for the motion to pass
My limbs become still,
Thoughts linger in the air
Reality is suddenly surreal,
What rationale is there left to spare?
Hannah Owens
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-s-left-15/
