In his misery,
he thought to end it all.
How the hell had it gotten to this point?
He climbed over the railing,
looked into the canyon at the rocks below,
took a deep breath.
Then he remembered.
The fortuneteller
said he had a long lifeline.
Now, he worried that if he were to jump,
he might just botch the job,
probably end up being disfigured
or crippled for the next eighty years.
Reconsidering,
he climbed back over the railing,
returned home,
broke up with his toxic girlfriend,
quit his suffocating job,
took a plane to South America
to explore some Incan ruins.
And then he wrote a poem about it.