You fell to your death
in order to impress your peers
or maybe for yourself. To prove
something, but what, we don’t know.
The parking garage complex was vast
and the vertical drop exhilarating.
Painted styrofoam was the decoy,
a little ledge on which you thought
you could land, but couldn’t.
The owners wanted to keep up
appearances, and so did the morticians
for your viewing. A shocking event
when we all quietly considered the implied violence.
The guys you were with laughed when you did it,
until they leaned over their ledge and saw your crumpled body.
Now that’s all they’ll ever see.
Morbid. I like it.
This made me realize that my last three poems included the word death in it. I need to be more subtle…
Time can be a metaphor for death. Or the trash collector.
I don’t like that poem Rami. My commitment is to life.
Alexander Marshall pembroke5@aol.com
I am also committed to life Alex. Thanks for commenting.
heartwrenching, LMA
I am humbled that such a famous dead writer likes one of my poems. Thank you.
Your poems show you have a great future in poetry writing and I say bravo and encourage you to keep the light shining.
Excellent. Feeling is so potent, especially in those last few lines. Superb write. Cheers,
Autumn Jade