Poem: Ensnarement

A thousand feet stand between us and the ground.
Our arms, interlocked, hold us together,
On the platform, listening to only the sound
Of the wind shaking the stands,
Drying our sweaty, tight-gripping hands.

The rules of this game remain unclear,
Unknown to any who were or were not wise
Enough to steer
Away from this charade of truth or lies.

All we know is as follows:
If one lets go, the other falls
But no one knows who wins or dies
In this horrible game of truth or lies.

Both could remain safe, alive and well
Both could die,
Or one could escape to a living hell.

The options are plentiful in this game of love,
Where the rules are unknown,
The winner, unclear,
To those who were
Or were not wise enough to steer
Away from this game that everyone plays
That consumes each and every day.

Do you trust your partner not to shove,
To stand with you strong, high above
The ground without looking down
And noting the distance you could fall?

Think fast,
Before you, too, become ensnared,
In this game that you could mean your demise,
The game of love, of truth or lies.


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