In the Foggy Morning

In the foggy morning, there is a cliff
Somewhere not sure where.
Its edge is blurred like my resolution.
I walk near the edge – always and will -
I walk along the brim of the mountain
Staring at my feet.
On occasion I peer up and trust I will not fall.
Never have, just stumbled.
I am torn at my seams and my skin hurts
Weighing my beliefs on a living scale.
I want to do things I won’t let my children do.
I want to fall asleep in her arms
I want to share answers with my friend
I want to be quiet and keep my beliefs to myself,
But the stones of my foundation cry out!
I want to wade in the water to pull my friend out.
I can’t see any ropes, nor jackets to save them.
I want to lift out, but I don’t want to fall in.
My parents shed their light
My friends stand still:
"It’s your life, man."
I bend the words of a sacred book
And walk a thin line.
How far can I go?
I am alone.
Take two steps back.