The Falling

“Please sir wont you help me?” Said the beggar to the thief. As he inches along the tightrope, With no safety net beneath. Deep breath shakily held, As he dives the murky deeps. No soul for the Devil, No peace of which to speak Shirt is off his back, Naked and venerable. Burying head into the sand, Always trying not to fall. A splint to keep him upright, Some form of support. Spiralling out of control, No sign of rational thought. Helplessness kicks in, As he steps in misery’s trap. Over the edge he teeters, There is no going back. There seems to be no reason, As forward he inches on. Panic starts to surface, Until logic has gone. “Please sir wont you help me?” Says the beggar to the thief. As his dignity is devoured, Left with stolen hopes and dreams ©.L.Kelly