"Have you ever been stuck in an elevator," he asked with half a frown,
"And then the lights flicker, and starts going down?
Not necessarily fast, but not really slow
Just enough that you brace for the blow,
For the crash that never seems to come.
"You try to hit all buttons,
You just want to get off at any floor.
The emergency stop is broken,
So you try to pry the doors.
Useless.
If you try to jump inside a falling elevator,
You only go up for a second before contributing to the fall:
Making the force even greater,
Making you feel so weak and so small.
When it suddenly stops and starts working again,
You can only think about that moment when
The gravity that surrounds you
Will betray you.
And I'm happy that your elevator works fine;
And I'm sad when people say I should fix mine.
I'm no mechanic, I just feel the fall,
Where the only thing I can do is wait for it all
To end."
He stopped for a moment,
and looked me in the eyes.
He pointed his index to his temple:
"And that's how it feels inside."
Actual conversation with a beautiful, troubled soul. All I did was make it verses.