Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.91
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Here I stand. Early so that its dark enough to see the pretty yellow/white shining bright from car headlights – unblinking eyes; watching, waiting, worried. Drawing ever nearer. Complemented by the burning red from the rear of the cars at the opposite end. A warning signal. A timely reminder in the hope that I might be a little kinder.

Start early but late enough so that its light enough for someone to see what im doing for im not sure if a fall will result in my ruin.

But If it so happens that I do take that long awaited plunge will it expunge all that I have done. Those ills and evils inflicted on so many people.

Of course im hoping that a fall from this here height will do me in. Or better still before my bones become acquainted with the stone; the fear itself might do me in. Yes its thoughts like this that make me think im not quite ready for deaths cold kiss. A coward jumping scared in search of an unobtainable bliss.

At times ive stood out on the edge and peered down beyond my feet, staring hard at what I see; my mind convincing me that it is more than just concrete. I jump….

Yet im still here. Stood tall, stood small. An old and ghostly owl afraid to fly for fear of the fall, a fledgling starling with a will to win; having dreamt of flying high before I spread my wings. Yet im way too weak to wet my beak. My thoughts fly wild but I can barely speak.

Here I am. The highest heights. Atop this bridge. A troubled, torn and tired kite in need of one almighty fix. A stitch. A magic needle. Sticky tape to mend my tears. To stop my tears. To blind my eyes. A superglue with flowing cape. To help me fly. To make me strong. A man of steel. To make me feel what ive not felt for way too long.

I watch the sun rising over the distant horizon. A patient ascent. Banishing the night’s last black brushstrokes swept across the sky so brazen behind my back. A whispered lament. The blinding red and yellow dimmed and soon a fading flicker trying hard to hold my eye. The sun: painting over nights bleak canvas. No task as thankless. Specks of light flicked far.  A blanket over self inflicted scars.

Warm, hopeful, kind. Softly burning all the darkness from my mind.

Until next time…
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required