My oh so poetic poetry

 Here is another attemps at writing... any good?... you tell me!

 She sits on the edge seven stories up. It’s two o’clock in the morning and the rain is beating down so hard the cities lights are nothing more than blurry specks of faded yellow in a sea of black and grey. The look of the lights isn’t important because she doesn’t even see them, her eyes are closed. She is busy forgetting. Forgetting the day to day, forgetting the untimely truths, just forgetting. Her young smooth wet face shows a certain sense of resignation, a withdrawal from the fight. What the fight IS, isn’t something you can explain unless you’re living it and even then you have to have lived it to understand. As she opens her eyes the pang of reality hits her features as if she had been struck across the face, hard. The soothing feeling of the summer rain keeps her on the window ledge for a few moments longer. "...simple pleasures... the last refuge of the complex" Something she had once heard yet never really placed, whatever its original allusion it seemed as fitting a thought as any to begin the procession that was to follow. She steps back through the window and into the living room, she walk to her bedroom door, opens it and looks back at the wet stains she has left on the tastefully overpriced carpet.
- Wimped out again didn’t you?
 Silly questions she already knows the answer to why does she bother asking them?
Her sister asks it again. This scene is played out more and more often between the siblings.
  I wonder if she’ll ever jump.|
- Yeah. Again, maybe next time I’ll jump
- Or you’ll fall
- Maybe I’ll fall. Then I won’t have to try.
- Mom and dad are still out. You won’t be able to scare them tonight.
- That’s too bad, I was going to play the drug angle again.
- They’ve wised up to that one, you need new tricks.
- Don’t they usually stop caring by now?
- Heh! Not our parents, They’re still convinced we’ll be prodigies.
- Prodigious splatters on the pavement maybe.
The telephone rings

Tomorrow, tomorrow there’s always tomorrow it’s only a day away.
Tomorrow, tomorrow hold on to tomorrow don’t let it fade away.
Tomorrow, tomorrow think of tomorrow and how you can have your way.
Tomorrow, tomorrow dream of tomorrow and all the kind things you’ll say.
Tomorrow, tomorrow scream for tomorrow as you lament your today.
Tomorrow, tomorrow what if tomorrow never came after today?
Tomorrow, tomorrow when it’s never tomorrow how can you have your way?
What can you say? What use will you lament have been but a waste of yesterday?
Tomorrow, tomorrow when there is no tomorrow don’t let yesterday fade away.
Live your tomorrow today.