|Title:||BLACK LINE - GREY LINE - WHITE LINE|
I have lines in my life that I''m forced to live by|
and they''re various shades of black.
The lowest line that I have that my brain feeds off,
is the line where there''s no turning back.
It is the line that when I fall down there
opens into a great black hole,
and if I fall in I can''t be stopped;
heaven help me, God bless my soul.
But with help from someone or something
I can climb to my line of grey.
I cannot do it all by myself;
please help me, now, today.
If you can lift me to my centre line
and I sit balanced with scope,
it may give me some incentive
to continue up my lines with hope.
If I can reach my white line
and stand steady upon that;
I''d be like a trapeze artist
in a wobbly high wire act.
I would try to balance on the top,
maybe sway from side to side -
far away from my black line;
alive, knowing I had not not died....