slowly falling off my cliff of tears, i catch a twig and hold on.
not knowing how long the twig will last, i gather myself up, and start climbing.
as i climb i see my past, present, and future tumbling past me.
i'm close to the top now.
my every move is watched carefully by the birds flying above.
watching me as i make my mistakes they keep a close eye in case i fall.
hoping that my short bit of luck will last, i stand up.

Desiree Whitamore

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/falling-metaphors/