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Please Mr Nichols, come back inside the window.
I can't promise you anything but I trust there is far greater reason to live.
I know you've become disheartened and disillusioned with the current state of affairs.
Your stocks have fallen, your investments have failed you.
The man whom you took orders from has been ordered to jail by his and your subordinates.

You question 'what this world is coming to?'
What is the profit margin when you are forced to pay into the marginalized,
Wheres the glory you dreamt of as a child, dressed as a cowboy, your play gun pointed at real targets,
Your mother holding her tongue as your father consoles you with the words, "It's just boy's stuff."

You joined his fraternity, you grew into his old suits,
You acquired his beliefs, you embodied his dreams and with them his oversights.
How long did you think it would last? It's just a matter of time, the road is far from over.
Look, your mother outlives your father, your sister outlives your brother.

And if you jump from this window today, she'll also outlive you.

Look at her, sitting in her midwestern home, tuned into Opera once again.
Today, she learns to medicate on her second hand couch,
Meanwhile, you stand outside this window, 12 stories above the ground, one story remaining until...

You contemplate the setting sun, unaware of your disorientation,
Dis-orient - turned away from the East,,
The shifting current seems to conspire against you.

Mr Nichols, you fail to see that you've always stood outside this window,
Perched on the threshold of oblivion, countless man-made stories above the truth, for so long you've stood,
Facing the setting sun, mistaking the complimentary unified duality of nature as being right or wrong,
Good or evil, God or devil.

Mr Nichols, instead of stepping of the ledge into the downfall of your up-rise, why not just turn around,?
Lessen the intensity of your western prayer, and face the rising sun,
Note the energy swirling from it's centre,
How it illuminates us all, and only the birds fly first class...

There is your inheritance, the warmth of a kiss, you invest your tongue into the mouth of mystery,
Allow the breath to seep into your lungs, surrender to a touch and guidance, there's no other way.
Your dreams of dominance will only help you forsake yourself, while your family continues its search for understanding,
And your daughters outlive your sons.