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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required And when i climbed the mound of grass The sun set at a stop Birds came swirling round Outcrops in the light Waves crashed under, instability; Glass houses and rocks. I think i got there. I think i managed, because i could see so far out And when i set up my gear To yell out to the climbers I cupped my helping hands around my mouth. Many couldn't hear me The glare of red would blind them, And they could never figure which way to clamber. Oh, i didn't get it Where should the left hand grasp? Where does the right foot get off? So i'd lean further out to them, I'd talk them up and on. My right hand to balance, My left foot latching on. And to think i actually made it, To think i was content... I guess you wouldn't have guessed. And in my memory, It's too much red. I can't recall the day that i fell again. Falling into a sky of light, Baby blue and red. Birds of prey to peck, to steal away my pleasures, They tell me i'm in debt. Did i not feed them before? Did they not eat my grass. And now many talk But many cannot listen. The glare, it always blinds me. Me, I couldn't listen. Where should my left hand grasp? Where will these birds of prey peck. On which foot did I set off? Will someone keep me in check? But oh, I'll never get it Fearing when dampened grass gives way-- I won't be ready to jump off.
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