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May 2015
High.
On the ledge.
Millions of feet below.
the soft looking pavement.
For my blood to surely flow.
I step off the ledge.
And fall really fast.
I recap my life.
Recap my past.
I hold my breath.
as if I am about to dive.
But really any sane person knows
You don't survive a fall this High.
As I keep falling.
I began to tear.
Thinking about my family.
My mother...
Oh Dear...
I wish there was another way.
But i'm falling to fast.
So I continue to hold my air.
And remember my past.
Nearing the ground.
A smile; formed on my face.
"Soon..." I say to myself.
I won't be in this place.
Inches away.
Time running slow.
The ground looks.
So
Ready
To release my soul.
Impact is quick.
Painless at that.
I gasp and bolt from my bed.
A pain in my back.
It was a dream.
Why won't you
Look at that.
I dreamed about Death.
About sweet release.
And my brain toyed with me.
Gave me a tease.
Glad I suppose.
That I didn't die.
From that big ole fall.
From that *******
High.
This is my second version, edited, fixed spelling, added one thing, made it better.
Quentin House
Written by
Quentin House  Willard, MO.
(Willard, MO.)   
297
   Andrew Tinkham and ryn
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