Paul Hardwick · Feb 24, 2012
Brink.

Brink sat on the edge as he always did.
Brink I asked.
Why sit there on the edge.
It is my place.
I could see what he told me was true.
Brink then fell over.
Fell said, here we go.
No more memory of misadventure.
For Brink was now dead.

 
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