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Jump
Poem
Jump
Over enemy lines.
The time is here,
parachute on,
straps tightened
and checked.
How far up?
One mile, two miles?
The others.
Are they as scared?
Some are laughing,
together.
They are that casual
or is their laughter
a front for fear?
He must soon throw himself
out of a plane.
Into air,
invisible,
without substance.
The air he breathes.
Life sustaining
but unsupporting.
He must have solid things
to touch.
Nothing solid,
no trust.
Courage melts.
He will refuse.
Like a coward.
Could he take the hatred,
the distain,
the vilification?
That also takes courage.
Which requires the greater?
And if he knew,
would that help decide?
Now is the moment.
Decision.
He steps forward
to the open chasm.
He may die but that
he would prefer.
Michael R Chapman
~ master of none ~
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