The rock wall rises straight to the sky,
If I loose my grip I will fall and die.
Just my fingers and toes suspend my weight
Gripping cracks in rock, they hold my fate!
It's over a hundred feet down, if I fall;
The tops a hundred more, this cliff is tall.
My fingers slip and I plummet and scream —
To wake in my bed, it was all a bad dream.
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