Living In the Web
Woven mesh of the past we push outward at your strands stretching them, but never breaking You snap back and entangle, ever tightening until you seem to wrap us about the neck, suffocating. what we don't understand is that your strands are not meant to be broken they are meant to be plucked and strummed they play the notes and chords of our future the songs they sing echo in our souls and reveal the harmony we must find in our lives
© Dave Lawson, 2000