Poetry For The Masses

Adults

//tw: death

It's funny, how you were right

But not about the right things

It's like you missed the point

Like you understood

But from the wrong perspective

"Are you going to jump off the bridge if your friends do it first?"

No

But I'll jump anyway

And not because of my peers or friends

Because of my morbid curiosity

You see, you grew up afraid of what you saw over the side of the bridge

So you never let me peek

You never told me of what I'd find

But I wanted to know

I asked, over and over and over again

But you always shook your head

So I said,

"One day, I'll jump from the side of the bridge"

And in return, you said,

"No you won't, because then you'd die"

So I asked,

"But why?"

And all you could do is shake your head and say,

"We can't fly."

You have to understand

It's not that we can't fly

It's that you never learned how to

So in turn, I'd never learn how to

Common sense, as one would see it

But nevertheless

I was only more interested with what was over the bridge

You gestured to the bridge itself

"Look at how sturdy it is."

"Look at all the people up here."

"Up here, behind the rails, it is safe."

I looked at you and asked,

"But why?"

You looked down at me and shook your head,

"Because it's dangerous over there."

So I ran to the edge, trying to see over the barrier

Trying to see the danger

But you only pulled me back

"You'll understand when you're older."

In a sense, you were right

I understand

Not yet completely, but I understand

I know now that denial only leads to morbid curiosity

And morbid curiosity leads to injury

Or even death

Because when I got older, I wanted to see what was over the bridge

So I looked

When I was finally tall enough, I looked

And there I saw a waterfall

Far below it crashed into a river

Surrounded by rocky cliffs and lush, green pastures

So I stood on the railing, spreading my arms

I wanted to fly

Still convinced you didn't know anything

Because how could something so pretty

Be so dangerous

I jumped

But I had no parachute

And I'd never learned to fly

So on the way down

I'd learned not of wings and aerodynamics

But of the others who'd tried to fly before me

I'd learned of the corpses I hadn't seen before

Littering the cliff

Overgrown in the pastures

Drowned in the bottom of the river

I fell

And there was no one there to catch me

Then I woke up

Panting, sweating, shaking

My heart racing

A dream, maybe

Still, I promised myself I wouldn't let my children repeat my mistakes

So I left the bridge

I traveled down the cliffside

Not by flying, for I never learned to fly

But by climbing

And I scaled the cliff to live in the pasture

So that when they see me below

They might take the time to observe

To see the beauty

But also the danger

So that future generations would know

That we cannot fly among the birds

I suppose, in the end, you were right

We can't fly

And it's not that we never learned how

And it's not even that we can't

It's that we want to

Because up there, on the bridge

We see the birds fly

And we want to be a part of them

So we try

And when we realize we can't fly

All that's left to do is embrace death

And hope that others will realize that

We are not birds

You are just adults

As we are children