Uncertain Dance Poem by Thunder Forest

There I was on the verge. Quarter after seven a.m. was my favourite time to splurge through that door, the door, that would sooner or later lead to my destiny, my end. I can't think but for now I shall pretend that this story is true... or is it. Sooner or later there along the way we all meet ends with our thoughts trapped until you can decide what's real and what's not. You may feel strong, like you can bare it all. That is until I take you as far as a single slip and you will fall. Here! Hold this mirror and look as my face peels off. The cold weather took it's place, for now I must stop.