Fall Through Poems | Examples

In the cracks of time, wherever they may be,
you can bet, they have an effect on you and me.
 In the moment of confusion, a crack against the wind,
how many cracks will it take, before we finally bend.
 An hour glass, as sifting through it’s sand,
at the end, a judgment is at hand.
 What doesn’t kill us, in our hearts you see,
and what will, together they always be.
 Each thing we do and say, it’s only by our choice,
a crack in time, when there is no voice.
 Words unspoken, with a sense about the air,
those who caused it, may want to beware.
 In the meaningless of silence, only the truth will stand,
in the cracks of time, blood stains on our hand.
When we kill at heart, a crack in time, you see,
as we know not, what they bring forth to be.
 Leave a good mark on the world, not the world leaving it’s on you,
in those cracks in time, that any day, we’ll fall through.

Something WILL FALL Through

I MEAN

It's really hard to
Be "thorough..."

When all the little 
HOLES are so
'SMALL.'

-Gray Squirrel

05-10-2024

When shadows creep on a darkened streets

and the lampposts have gone dim

When trouble lurks around each bend

and life's happy path turns grim

Will I be there to catch you

before you fall on through the cracks

Will I be there to guide you

to let you know I have your back

In the darkest hour of the darkest night

I will always bring you light

When times get tough and you had enough

I will be there for you to fight

I will walk with you 

I will talk with you

I will share each loving breath

for you my son are number one

I'll protect you til my death



09/05/2015

I fall through the carpet

I fall through the doors

I fall through the pavement

I fall through the walls

 

I fall through the air

I fall through the grass

I fall through the tiles

I fall through the glass

 

I fall through your touch

I fall through your eyes

I fall through your words

I fall through your lies

Woke up this morning with blood on my hands.
Blood as red as the fire that burns these lands.
And its not the thought of what created these wounds,
but the thought that my fall will not end soon.

Like a shriveled rose, lost to the wind,
is my body to decompose and then become pinned.
For the ones that are mourning, bury me slowly.
While saying goodbyes, in their dark, truthful beauty.

So there is beauty in my slow fall through quicksand.
Not all the world has burned, and that i find grand.
For this morning i woke with blood on my hands,
only to wash away the flames and start again.

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