A Question Of Degree

Once a question of degree

Now circumstances corner me

Demanding my attention

Leaving little choice

Posing several questions

Distilling in one voice

Confusion not in words

I didn't want a problem

I didn't simply fall out

I was thrown at great speed

From a passing car

I didn't touch the ground

Till I landed at your door

Oh don't touch my luggage

I can easily surely manage

To struggle inside

I hide my shaking

Thus protect my pride

I can surely manage

To tremble inside

Gathering myself

And spreading it around

Rivers are submerging

Flowing underground

Can I really manage

To survive outside?

Can I really manage

To survive outside?

Can I?

Can I?

Can I?

Can I?