I am a ball,
World, will you drop me?
I am not afraid to fall,
Whirl and twist indefinitely.

Your embracing strings sweetly cry,
a web weaved so supple yet delicately,
of crosses envisioned, and one overlapped why,
The world is a covering of I and you.

But don't take too dearly,
any darling of the heart,
Let the dated pit drop nearly,
Reassuring death weighing a rested gut.

Rise, without yeast,
clearing furrows of the opaque soul.
It once shimmered to the very least,
grand upset to my dampening viewing.

No longer seen,
am I tucked away?
Far gone beyond the dreamy stars,
That keep my sight to only what seems,
Shielded lids, how oft they dream,
nil to rehearse, still drafting the play.

I wonder if I could have been different,
The chorus offers a synched no,
I would yell If I had any air left,
But my anger, my angst, all must go.

I like when the stage drops out,
and I land in the lively mud,
crusty, lovely, lonely and falling up,
Striving for a love bomb, let hate be a dud.

Continuing show,
like Broadway make your sweep,
The globe and its panels combine,
for a drama tragedy completed with long weep.