White Cliffs

As I stood on the white cliffs,
Staring at the endless sea,
I found myself wondering,
What life has in store for me,

For standing here I am no more,
Then an inch from certain death,
Yet if I turn around and walk,
I would have many a year left,

I peered over the edge,
When something caught my eye,
If I fall, a white cottage,
would meet me before I die,

Which made me think would death,
Really be the end,
Or would it be like moving,
A new world you would attend,

As I gazed at the cottage,
I noticed something new,
For next to the white cottage,
Lay a reddish, pinkish goo,

It had the same pair of jeans,
I put on this morning,
It had the same jacket and shirt as I,
In fact the same everything,

Then the obvious became apparent,
as the facts became clear and loud,
This is no cliff I'm standing on,
Tis but a humble white cloud.