Zev Schwartz

The Pit

Falling, falling,
Constantly falling.
Everything is black.
Nothing is fine.

This pit, this hole -
Its walls are smooth like porcelain.
I try, but I cannot climb out.
Clawing at its sides,
Fingers bleed.
The walls close in,
Surround me, consume me.
The end is near.

Walls made of expectations,
Stairs of desire.
Each step bellows,
Go to college!
Get a job!
I scale them with ease,
Willing to take on their challenges.
The next stair screams,
Will you ever get married?
I lose my footing,
And tumble down into the darkness.
Hopes and dreams,
In the pit of every mind.
Will they be answered in the end?
Or be pushed into the murky depths?
Never made real, never attained.
Am I like everyone else?
Am I alone in this emptiness I feel?
In that pit, on those stairs, in my mind?
Or will I be falling, falling,
The only one falling?
Darkness surrounding me,
Pulling me in.


Copyright 2002-2006 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2006 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.