He stands on the tips of his toes,
Pulls his pose up and gazes to see the chasm before him
As he sees how he has come so close
All he can remember is childhood memories that make him cringe
A little boy on a sweltering summer day
Reeling from his fear of drowning, not a soul to save him
A sudden playful push sent him flailing away
The rush of bone chilling cold, enveloping his skin
And as he is jolted back to his senses, he wonders
If a passerby could help him make the decision
Could the sensation be the same? A fall under
With a rush of cold, instead of the pain and sin
Would anyone remember? Would his parents cry?
Hope remained that they would find the hint
Nagging at the edge of his panicking cluttered mind
The horn of the metal monster approaching
Could someone push him, help bring it to an end?
He could feel his eyes watering, stomach lurching
A last cry for help that his voice could not lend
The mechanical voice yet preached safety
But his mind ignored the plea, his knees began to bend
Rushing footsteps, a man’s final plea
As he threw all hope and body into the wind
Made into naught but broken bone, crushed by the metal monster’s frame
A soul to be eternally alone, a body with no name.


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