The Edge. Poem by dave lessard

You're on the edge my darling,
come back this way a bit;
standing too close to nothing,
makes me have a fit.

You can see the view from where I am,
without getting too damn near;
I only thinking of you safe,
you seem too close my dear.

You laugh and call me foolish,
to be a worry-wart;
but I would feel much better,
if you would but abort.

Death isn't very funny,
don't make me scold you more;
must I come and drag you back?
the one that I adore.

You lean and peer into the space,
my heart begins to thump;
the vertigo just sucks you in,
or did you truly jump?