On a Razor's Edge
What is this strange sensation?
I can't focus on the day.
My mind is in a tailspin,
And I fritter the hours away.
Breathlessly, I gasp for air.
My fingers and toes are numb.
Temptation chills my bones.
What more will I succumb?
Balanced on a razor's edge,
I teeter on the cusp of doom.
No mercy for my ravaged heart,
Each time you walk into the room.
Copyright © Randy Freie | Year Posted 2023
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