Futility Poem by Scott Raikes

Six pounds to freedom, a tale long sense told. The tormented overzealous mind of man, just 6 pounds to end the pain. Allways right to the edge, self preservation will not permit me to cross. I need help to walk through that threshold, I alter my mind but I still cannot pass. Maybe God himself prevents me, maybe this is a dream. But I wake time and time again only to see the edge like a feverish nightmare. Maybe tomorrow