Wings

I promised that the next poem would be of a slight contrast to my last one.

Wings is a poem that also starts at the edge of a roof, only this time the plunge is taken... to fly. 

Wings:

Cool, clean air

Filters through my lungs.

I sway ever so slightly

As I face the rush.

The strong, tense wind

Whips my hair in frenzied directions.

Heel alone on the edge,

Toes free of caution.

Great plumes of feathers white

Open up and out above

These shoulders meant to soar

About the skies so loved.

Tilting forward, my heart still skips

As the ground calls out to me

But my wings then spread and push me up

To other-worldly sights to see.

Gliding, spinning, somersaulting,

I dance on tips of clouds,

And here awakens a serenity

Uncovered from its shrouds.

I fly and soar above the lands

These great wings carry me to,

For heads will turn and look about

But heaven’s a place for only few.

The sun and stars await me

In my little black dress,

So I flap my wigs harder

Until the sky feels my absence. 

Both Wings and The Edge of the Roof start at the same place, but one is light hearted and almost magical, full of positivity, while the other is dark and sad, but far more emotional and deep.

I'd actually like to know which kind of poem you would prefer - the dark themed one, or the light one? Wings or The Edge of the Roof?

The Edge of the Roof

The next two poems I post will be special. Both this one and the next poem are of similar settings but contrasting themes.

The Edge of the Roof is, as you could probably tell, a suicide poem. It's a poem describing how a person stood on the edge of the roof, ready to jump, and then thought of how his/her friends needed him/her and that alone made him/her step back and keep living, for the sake of his/her friends.

The Edge of the Roof:

The cold wind bites

Against my cheeks,

I feel the rush and

My thundering heartbeat.

Below I see the lights,

Below I see the traffic

Like ants made of neon

Colors that make me sick.

Streaks of red

And yellow and blue

And blinding white

And concrete hues.

And I see blood,

I see pain and suffering

And an ache to be

Someone worth living.

Feet on the edge of the roof.

Toes hanging over the edge.

Head lifted up to a blurry sky.

Seeking heaven off this ledge.

Who am I? What am I?

What have I done right?

What difference does my existence make

If I endure and sit tight?

What will they think?

How will they know –

The people who know me

Across the world?

What will they say?

I won’t be missed.

They’ll mourn for a while

My departure a bliss.

But those few friends

Who trust me –

What will happen to them?

What will they see?

A person they trusted,

A person they knew,

Abandoning them –

Now what will they do?

I thought of the girls

Who cried to me.

I thought of the boys

Who cried to me.

I thought of my friends

Who confided their pain

In me, who took it upon me

To comfort them in their strain.

They needed me.

I was there.

What will happen to them

Without my care?

I cannot be selfish,

I cannot leave.

I cannot jump

When friends need me.

If I can make a difference

To those few,

Then I’ll fight my tears

As I help them do.

One step back.

I’m off the ledge.

Two steps back.

Away from the edge.

Turn around, wipe my tears.

Take a deep breath,

Control the shaking and

The fears that are ever a threat.

Collapse if I must

On the cold rooftop,

Put myself together

As the dangerous thoughts stop.

Think of someone

And a fun time we shared

And from somewhere within

A strange laugh was spared.

A minute ago I was on the ledge,

Ready to end it all and go poof.

I was saved by thinking of my friends

On the edge of the roof.