At the Edge

It is only at the edge of dyin', baby,
That any of us know what it's like to be cryin'
Maybe, not for ourselves, but for all we leave behind,
Oh whatever, and ever, and forever, nevermind;

The sorrow is lost, because tomorrow will cost
More than I can pay, how did it slip away?
How did it slip away, baby,
How did it slip away?

More than mere words, more than those assureds,
It's all slipped away;
Nothing more that I can say,
Nothing more that I can pay,
The till is empty.

Love and life, tears and strife,
Sprinkled with some laughter;
Moonbeams and gleams from your eyes,
Still, what comes after:
Starlight frozen still,
What my heart tries to will,
Still falls down life's stairs,
Crashing to the floor,
Leaving nothing, save the door,
The door to nothing more.

Ring, I would love to ring,
But my bell refuses to sing;
It sits there like a dirty gong,
Hoping I will provide a song.

I choose, not to use
All the various mechanisms available to me
To tell you that I long only to be free,
To be just me.

If I leave you tomorrow,
It will be with some sorrow;
For all that I thought was meant to be:
Me with you, and you with me.

December 19, 2008, for Jan.
Copyright © 2008, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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