Everyone feels it happening.
The slow steady slide over the edge.
There is no stopping it.
There is not a time before it started.
It is all we know,
may be all we ever will.
Those who have gone before,
the loved ones and the unknown –
do they know? Would they tell?
Do we grow among ruins beneath this thin veneer of light?
The Next Step
01 Wednesday May 2013
Posted poems
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