Atop The Wall
Why should I try to make sense of it all
when thus far all endeavors have failed?
Why should I struggle to win in this world
when each chance that I’ve had I’ve assailed?
What can I make of the pieces that lie
broke and scattered in front of my view?
What is the purpose of picking them up
when it’s clear I don’t know what to do?
Why should I hope for the darkness to leave
and the sadness to fall from my eyes,
when it’s clear I will never give up this charade
and stop hiding behind all the lies?
I’ve gone through these questions again and again,
but the answer is always the same -
that I don’t have the answers, not even a clue
and I’ve only my own self to blame.
For I’ve pushed away everyone who ever tried
to assist me and show me they cared,
and I’ve burned every bridge that my path ever crossed
just to prove to the world that I dared.
So I stand all alone with no friends and no home
and no future to speak of you see.
And no reason to live, so no reason to give
anyone any chance to reach me.
For I know what they’ll say as the coax and the sway
me to come back from off of this ledge,
but I’m on my way down to my hole in the ground,
my next step to become my last pledge.
But I’m frozen in fright looking into the night
at the city that brought me to stand
here atop of this wall, so I’ll try all in all...
reaching out to take the angel’s hand.
