By Finn Bielski-Cook | Posted: Tuesday August 3, 2021
Year 12 English - Poetry.
The chill of the icy wind,
Standing on the bright red bridge.
Why am I doing this I think?
I can taste my own sweat.
Staring down into oblivion.
Standing on the edge,
Butterflies crash in my stomach.
The countdown begins.
I step off the cliff,
I am falling into the depths,
I regret everything.
Falling into the unknown.
The taste of the cool Air.
My fingers pierce the ice.
Bouncing around like a pogo Stick.
What’s happening I wonder.
Pulled onto the boat,
Adrenaline pumping through me.
Staring at the bright red bridge.
Pulling the harness off.
It’s over at last.
Stepping off the Boat,
The gravel crunching as I walk.
Opening the door to the building.
I can’t wipe the smile off my face.
I am officially fearless.
Finn Bielski-Cook