There are days
There are days…
There are days
And there are days…
When,
You walk up,
Right beside the edge of your world,
You need to choose,
Whether to stay on the edge,
Or to take that one final step,
To move forward,
To slip into the abyss that is called life,
You stutter,
For rear grips your limbs,
For moving forward would mean losing what all you have,
Carried with you and within you,
And it is all about that choice,
A choice which depends on the day,
Whether it is the day,
Or whether your fear would grip you for another,
For,
There are days,
And there are days…
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