Sometimes I look at my life <br />And see Im outside looking in <br />Hovering above that bubble <br />In observation of my own sins. <br /> <br />Like a balloon on a string <br />Longing to float away so free <br />Or perhaps a blooming flower <br />Rejecting the stem to unfetter me. <br /> <br />If I had arms of any strength <br />I'd slice away those binding roots <br />With the knife of my own power <br />A clean cut, a clean wound. <br /> <br />But now I stand here knowing <br />That such threads will never break and <br />I flick my cigarette too hard, losing the tip <br />Of my iceberg <br />That's just the tip <br />Of my iceberg.<br /><br />Tara Crown<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/iceberg/
