I Slipped On a Teardrop and Landed
I slipped on a teardrop and landed in muck.
No inkling had I of my future bad luck.
The tear I had cried started out, oh, so small
I’d felt little need to be crying at all.
But crying that one single tear was enough
To bring to me to this! Now my life’s getting tough.
The muck where I landed is not disappearing.
And sometimes these days I can feel my eyes tearing.
I do what I can though to stop tears from flowing.
It doesn’t much matter; the muck just keeps growing.
The muck is becoming a loose and wet sand.
Yes, quicksand! It pulls me. I reach for a hand. . .
Then hands from my loved ones; then hands from each friend.
With so many hands out, this can’t be the end!
The muck turned to quicksand could swallow me whole,
But I must believe that it can’t take my soul.
My family and friends are comfort for me.
Their hands I grab hold of; then strong I can be.
I’ll keep loving life, and I’ll laugh. In a while
The quicksand will have to subside, and I’ll smile.
I’ll next be the one whose comfort gets handed
To one who has slipped on a teardrop and landed.
Written 6/21/16 with gratitude for all who were there for me in a trying time
Now for PD's Deep ( 001) Poetry Contest
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