Year 12 English - Poetry.

Bungee Jumping

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