The Faller
The Faller
He stands at the edge of a tall mountain looking down the sheer drop.
Seconds pass.
The man jumps!
Nothing stops his fall.
Rocks smash his frail limbs like matchsticks.
End over end till he finally hits the valley floor 2,800ft below,
his body a bloody broken mass.
Why did he jump?
Suicide?
No.
Because he enjoys it.
He's the faller.
This jump is his 318th off this mountain.
Broken limbs, pulped body, severed head, fatal injuries and death
are an occupational hazard.
It's ok.
The destructive injuries vanish after 30 minutes and
the faller is as fit as a butcher’s dog
and mad as a psychopath to jump again.
Witness a freak: the faller.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
