He sat there holding on tightly <br />There was no way it would come loose <br />But whilst he held it in his hands <br />Well, he felt a kind of peace <br />Almost as if it represented sanctuary <br />At peace except when he felt threatened <br />That someone might take it away. <br />But as he held it tightly in his grip <br />The sweat from his hands was tarnishing it <br />Causing it to lose its shine <br />He could see something in the distance <br />Like sparkling water glimmering, calling <br />He pulled again but could not get free <br />And if he let go and went to see <br />Would it still be here when he returned? <br />And that glimmer on the horizon <br />Who knows what it really is <br />Just an imagination, a hope, a dream?<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/letting-go-48/
