I gaze upon the setting sun

wondering about the days to come.

The vibrant oranges, the brilliant reds

the shining yellows, the zesty pinks

the mysteries of what waits ahead

makes a person stop and think.

Darkness begins to creep around the edges

the colors slighty fading

as I climb upon the sturdy ledge.

The ground below me shaking.

Wind rustling the branches

the shipser drift to m year

beckoning me to come here.

The golden sun is now low in the sky.

The magic in the air makes me imagine it's possible to fly.

The tormenting is endless,

it leaves me defeneless.

From this point I control my life.

         I'll never be somebody's mother or wife.

The summer days are no longer fun.

I take a deep breath...

...and jump into the setting sun.