Grey Edges

I'm waiting always
For a conclusion that may not come.

Cowering under the knife of death,
It's well worn edge
Creeping ever closer.
The grey edges closing in.

My dreams as distant as they ever were,
And the only real life in my head.

The weekend my only tangible goal,
And everything else on permanent hold,
Like I've taken a ticket that will never be called.

Constantly forfeiting my belief
In this little planet Earth.

October 31, 2005.