On the edge of a cliff, her head in a cloud
Weighin’ her life’s value, should she call it quits?
The jeering voice of her mother
Echos ‘gainst her skull, loud,
Needlin’ her “Go-head, loser, and jump!”
“Six a one, half dozen of a-nother,
You ain’t done nothing worth hangin’ ‘round for.
Your life’s a mess, your home’s a dump.
You mize-well shut the door.”
But, ‘stead of stepping she sits.
The words whir round, each replacing another,
“Half of one, six dozen of the other!”
She calls out with a bitter laugh.
“I can become the six, Mama,
But you are stuck as the half.”
“I’m sorry for you, sad as you are,
Negative, caustic, harsh as can be,
Your life is a nightmare, your heart is a scar,
Yet, out of al that, I want to be proud of me.”
She rises and turns, then turns once more,
And casts just her cares out to sea.
Written by Kay Kole Leary