Words do not Care

I struggle to put words on paper
That seems to avoid my chalk
Through many sleepless nights
I sit waiting for dawn
Hoping for a temporary calm
To my scattered thoughts

Clinging to the tuft of grass
There on the lip of the cliff
Praying for it to keep holding
For just one more heartbeat

Dancing along a razor’s edge
What does a hero ever get?
Almost dead yesterday
Maybe dead tomorrow
What good is being alive
If it means living caged?

He knew very well
That he was quite mad
But because he was mad
He simply did not care

~~~~~Jerry Marks