Over The Edge A poem by Richard Broadstreet Every day, I am pushed, Closer and closer, To the edge, Pushed, ever closer, to my end, I want to live, but not like this, This life is not a life, This edge is my death, And they keep pushing me closer, If I don't get saved, I will fall over the edge, And will be killed by my own hand, I have found suicide, It is the only way out.