The Precipice | By: Mark Lenig | | Category: Poem - Death Bookmark and Share

The Precipice

The Precipice

Teardrops falling from my face
Footsteps pounding on the open road
Got to get away, got to escape
Sick of being a scapegoat

Sick of this terrible place
Sick of this haunting reality
Sick of this earth
And all of its mortality

My breathing is fast
My footsteps heavier and slower
I think about the stuff I’ve seen, stuff I’ve done
And my head hangs a little bit lower

I’m tired of waking up in the morning
With nothing to look forward to
Tired of living alone by myself
No one in the world to talk to

I’m sick and tired of living
Living amongst these pathetic hypocrites
Amongst posers, liars and phonies
Mayhem, madness, and hatred
These people and all this shit

I’m walking closer and closer
I approach the rock walled precipice
I take a last deep breath
Looking down into the bottomless abyss

Wind catches my face
As I stand alone and stark
A teardrop plunges
I watch it disappear into the dark

I’m depressed from seeing the innocent hurt
Depressed from seeing what others do
Depressed from watching the news
Depressed from thinking about what I’m going to do…

I step back a few steps
Then take a running leap
The wind rushes past my face
As I approach an endless sleep

For a second there I feel nothing
Nothing but happiness and bliss
Right before my body hits the solid ground
I can’t help wondering all I’ll miss

I lay there crumpled and broken
A body amongst the rocks
The world is less one person
Yet another soul is lost

—Mark Lenig
March 1, 2001
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