I’m falling.
As I fall I see faces.
Half I know,
And either love them to bits,
Or don’t appreciate them for who they are.
The others,
Are the unknown.
Figures of my future,
Or my past.
The faces fly past me as I’m falling.
As they go past,
They say things.
Things that I want,
Or need.
They promise to make,
The pain go away,
To fix my broken heart.
They say they can give me,
A gun,
A knife,
And even a bridge.
Then the faces disappear,
And darkness enfolds me,
I’m picking up speed,
And I see the ground.
It’s getting closer,
And closer.
Then BANG!
I wake up.
M.J. Henderson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/30-seconds-of-me/
