Silence

Jump

Stiff breeze whips my hair into a frenzy,

It slashes across my face, obstructing my view.

Down below I see my species, scurrying like rats,

Over a dead carcass, left in the sun.

All are too busy to look up,

Trapped in their own little races.

I spit over the edge and watch patiently.

What are the odds of hitting someone?

It must be good as there are so many.

A faceless person wipes his head and looks up.

The masses flow around him, like a river around a rock,

Rushing ever onwards to their destination. 

Frozen he stares at me, where I stand.

I mark him out and spread my arms.

I cannot hear what he says, but smile at his gestures.

Frantically he waves about, disturbing the stream.

As one the mass of people gaze up at me,

Accusing fingers point me out as if none could see me.

You can feel the tension in the crowd as realisation dawns.

Many are already on their phones filming, phoning.

Soon the sirens will approach, screaming their warnings.

Foolish, thoughtless humans, conformed beyond recognition, 

I am not here to just jump,

I am here to brighten your day,

Give you a thrill in your repetitive hum drum lives.

I await my signal...

A faint scream is heard in the distance.

I spread my arms,

Take a deep breath...

I leap into the air like an eagle taking flight.

Down below the crowd screams, begins to run,

A stampede of bull proportions. 

None want me sprayed all over them.

I spot the ones filming me, 

How sick must you be to still keep filming,

I am still amazed by how desensitised we have become.

I drop, smile across my face, directly aimed at those below.

My mask ripples at the exerted forces of my descent.

I pull up and like a flying squirrel I glide away,

The streaming crowd pauses once more and stares,

Amazed, relieved and angry at me.

As one they start to boo and shout,

I glide away not woried with them.

Too soon my flight as an eagle will be over

And I will once more walk amongst the throng.

Immersed once more in the lifeless thing called...

Modern society...

A dead unfeeling humourless beast.

Wonder what I will do for fun tomorrow?