Precarious Poem by 00wolf Syring

Precarious



Precariously perched on a ladder thats lurched and a sheet of sharp steel slides slowly across my palms.
Its times like these I hope life is just a dream and ill awake from my death well rested.
But the ice on my feet and the strain in my shoulders reminds me that Im present for the ride.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: work
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