62 (Useless filler here to get forum to recognize title)

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62 (Useless filler here to get forum to recognize title)

Post  Agent Smith on Fri Apr 18, 2008 12:28 am

I sent her a message
This time last Tuesday.
It has been one week,
And no message back, no missed calls.

And now I stand here,
62 floors from the street,
On a roof staring at the ground,
Looking around.

Crowd gathered below,
Watching and waiting,
Hunger in their eyes,
Questions on their faces.

I'm 62 floors from the street,
On this cold rooftop,
On this blustery day,
In the city.

It's rush hour,
On the streets below,
Crowds on the sidewalk,
Cars moving very slow.

I sent her a message,
And I have no reply.
I asked her to meet me,
But it seems she doesn't care.

62 floors from the street,
Each floor has a story,
Each story has a meaning,
Each meaning leads here.

62 floors from the street,
I bend my legs ready to jump,
But she cried," Wait!"
But it was too late.

62 floors from the street,
Shrinking before my eyes.
The crowd's getting bigger,
Her voice is getting louder.

As I hit the street,
She rushes out to meet me,
As I lay ther dying, I ask:
"Why didn't you return my message?"

And she looked down at me,
Tears in her eyes,
And she said,
"Because you worked in the office next to mine,
Why didn't you know?"

As I took my last breaths,
I said,
"All this time? Why?
A week went by? Why?"

And just like that,
The light left my eyes,
As she said her answer,
I didn't here it...

62 floors from the street,
Tears in my eyes,
Preparing to jump,
She grabs my arm.

62 floors from the street,
I say to her,
Tears down my face,
"You got my message?"

And she aid back,
Choking on tears,
" Yes,
And I want so much more..."

2 stories from the street,
In our safe little suburb,
In our safe little home,
My phone rings.

"Did you get my message?"
She says as she walks in the room.
I say yeah,
She cries...

In a bright room,
With yellow wallpaper,
She lays in an unfamiliar bed,
Holding our two sons...

62 floors from the street,
I begin to back down,
And I fall...
She rushes up to meet me,

She cries,
"I got your message,
I want so much more,
But it's too late..."

I say,
"Wait.
Save your tears,
I may be gone,
But you have a life to live."

And then I die,
I watch over her,
62 miles from the street,
Up in heaven,
I'm waiting on you...
62 years to go...

Agent Smith
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