Up here at the top of the world, I stare into the horizon.
a building under construction in plain view.

Next to me,
A homeless man throws an empty bottle at some hard hats.
Screaming nonsense at them like he owns them.

Beside him,
A dog prances around, stopping only to **** on the brown grass.
covering up the **** that was left by some other dog earlier on.

the sun sets.
a film student points and clicks his camera at his model.
The model stares longingly into the horizon

At night,
Rebels, stumble out of the wilderness giggling and coughing.
smelling like skunk and sweat.
Almost stumbleing off the rocks.

I sit alone at the top of the world,
Trying to find my own way to escape.

I stand up and walk to the end of the cliff.
I scream nonsense at the black, but nobody hears me.
I ******* the precipice; but nothing is covered up.
I stare gloomily off into the horizon, but all I see is the building under construction.
I inhale smoke, but I don't feel any different.

I can't escape like the homeless man does,
or the dog, or the film student, or the rebel. they found their ways and Those ways belong to them.

I need to find my own way to escape. My top of the world.