On The Edge | By: Willie Buchanan | | Category: Poem - Getting Help Bookmark and Share

On The Edge

On The Edge

Sitting on the edge,
feet dangling over the ledge.
Stars twinkle in the night sky.
Far below small people passing by.

Wish I could spread wings and take flight.
Beyond the zone of twilight.
My arm is around the old statue of a lions head.

“It’s the big C”, the Doctor said.
My thoughts,cash out now,or later?
Wait and the pain will get greater!
Fifty,fifty shot to win.
If I do a new zest for life will begin.

It might go wrong in so many ways.
If it does it will be the end of my days.
“Lord,what should I do?”
I look up for a sign and then toward the ground.
It is a long way down!

I start to feel nervousness and nausea.
A voice connects to my spine and I hear the words in my mind.

My Guardian Angel said,”this is not your time!Do not commit a crime.After all treatment is  complete,this illness thy will defeat.Have no fear,I am near.
Leave this place.Wipe the tears from thy face.
Thy will live,still much love to give.”

“Wow,wow!Thank you so much for helping me!
I am so grateful,truly,
I will be a better man!
I skip down the street with happy feet,as I yell out loud,
I will make you proud!”

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