An Everyday Disaster - Hillary Mitchell - Bog

On the edge,
Staring down at worn sneakers
Barely on the concrete,
Fingertips hovering on rusty rails.
How many other souls stood here too?
Contemplating the plunge of life and death,
A simple breeze the wrong direction.
Then suddenly, you're hurtling toward the end.
Perhaps they never hesitated.
Yet somehow, we all know they did.
Each one stood and debated the pros and cons
Justifying their next move toward oblivion.
Despite all being tainted with the same darkness,
We insist that alone is all we'll ever be.
Gulping desperately at fresh air, only to find
Mildewed hopes and dreams abandoned
Revolted with ourselves,

We allow that final push
Into Death's warm embrace.