There she stands on cliff’s <br />edge, not even looking <br />down. One more step and <br />she will be falling into the <br />future. <br /> <br />The close of the <br />millennium, brings <br />remembrances of the past, <br />not looking toward the <br />future that’s gaining fast. <br /> <br />tower dreams— <br />silent screams— <br />she’s all alone <br /> <br />What was her name? <br />Who, that crazy woman? <br />Where was she from? <br />Some place near Babylon? <br /> <br />She, locked away <br />from what was real, <br />held to some deep belief, <br />that the end of the <br />world was not at hand, <br />but the hurting was. <br /> <br /> <br />And then she spoke: <br />“Solitaire was just a game, <br />but now it is a state of mind. <br />It was great when I was <br />young and knew nothing of fate.” <br /> <br />“A free-for-all with my <br />lonely spirit. What was it <br />you tried to steal? A piece <br />of fudge cake or my will? ” <br /> <br />“I’ll trust your word <br />on all that’s good. <br />I’ll hold your tongue <br />to speak my mind.” <br /> <br />tower dreams— <br />silent screams— <br />we’re all alone <br /> <br />So, there she stands on cliff’s <br />edge, with her hand in mine, <br />not even looking down. <br />One more step and we will be falling into the next <br />millennium.<br /><br />stan pelfrey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/209-the-brink/
