82 Stories

A dark pit of sorrow
With nothing less
Than mere nothingness
Sits on the side of his bed.

Thinking of why
Dreaming Of When
Wondering Where
Happiness is forever.

Teardrops fall on
The black and white photograph.
I can hear them like
nothing else...

Time flies by, only on clocks
With the dark pit time stops.
Dreams only happen in your sleep,
Why not sleep forever?

With lead?
With stainless steel?

The cold wind froze
His frail body.
83 stories below him.
Lost dreams and unanswered prayers
The last breeze blew.
It was like no other,
But cold and hard.

The edge nearby
Inching towards the beginning
Of an end.
Feet lifted off the ground.
82 stories to go...

by Houston Needham

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