Some minds shut like rusted jail doors,
locked tight, fearing the wind’s chatter.
They turn inward, chasing echoes
that bounce off cold, hard walls.
The open ones, though—
those are the parachutes,
billowing in the freefall,
catching gusts from a screaming sky.
You can’t stitch courage
into the fabric of the closed.
They’d rather plummet clean and fast,
daring gravity to prove its worth.
But the open—
they tumble through questions,
ride the howling winds of doubt,
and land in fields of strange colors.
The fall is the same for everyone.
The difference
is who bothers
to pull the ripcord.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: March 21st, 2026 04:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17

Offline)
Comments2
Now this is a metaphor that had never occurred to me Gray. Well developed and worked out if floats. Nicely done
Thank You Soren. They removed the tumor in my dad's brain two days ago and they are talking about sending him home tomorrow. He is walking and talking.
You are most welcome Gray and I am very glad and relieved that your father seems to be doing better.
I like to believe that my parachute is open at all times - unless I encounter a closed one .... possibly vain hopes I can control a minor adjustment and safe descent...
Thank You Dave
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