Grey clouds gather on the sky to say
all is not well on Valentine’s Day
rays of lost dreams wink at me
I see a giant with feet of clay.
A hand to hold is not a tough wall
it has faltering feet, and a place to fall
my smallness made it look so big
love is nice, not the be-all and end-all.
Now – I expand, I grow, I fly
to move past the lightning in the sky
find a place to park what I could not do – there is always
another day, another time, another high.

I like how you describe that hand to hold as “it has faltering feet, and a place to fall”.
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Thank you! A place to fall can be a privilege.
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Excellent.
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Thanks 😀
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The last lines clinches the detachment from an icon that has outlived his/its usefulness?
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Sort of …. ;;looking for new horizons.
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“…and a place to fall” – that line brings your reader up short and asks questions. Good!
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Thank you so much!
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i had the same inspirations of jars of clay and feet. your rhyming gives the rubai a graceful flow.
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Thank you, Gina!
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