White Hall

Like being tethered to the breeze

A fleeting weakness in my knees
A constant lifting of my feet
From solid ground

Like holding on to something dear
While feeling constant fear
That that thing I hold so near
Will be lost never to be found

Like giving everything I have
But always holding a little back
Always pretending to be glad
When sometimes I am unwound

Like feeling something true
But never knowing what to do
Always waiting for bad news
So afraid to hear a sound

Is this feeling that I get
This hope I wont regret
But even as my blood lets
I love having her around