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The poems

Made by Teresa Marrin
© 2010-2012

letting go

OK
We’re dive-bombing here
Last chance, last try, go for broke
Heading straight down
My hands are off the controls
It’s just you – just you flying
It’s your plane, not mine
I’ve got my own plane
And mine’s diving too
So I’m letting go
You have no copilot now
Really the trick is
You never did
So I stand by and watch you
Dive, dive, dive

Oh, God
Pull up, pull up
Please pull up….