adaptation from art to poetry

Falling from the sky, falling from the sky,
my oh my, I am falling from so high.
I place my hands on my face and close each eye
as I fall from the sky and I prepare to die.

My bonnet floats behind me like a beautiful butterfly,
the strings flutter like wings and I hear the people cry.
They try to stop me but I don’t know why
as I fall from the sky and I accept that I must die.

I keep my hands on my face to avoid the goodbye,
they’ll hear a loud splash and surely they’ll sigh.
I want to tell them I’m okay, but it’s merely a lie
as I fall from the sky and I prepare to die.

You’d be surprised to know life doesn’t flash by,
my mind spins and spins, it desperately seems to try.
there’s no thought process, though I don’t know why
when you fall from the sky and get ready to die.

I’m off of the bridge, there’s no use feeling shy,
the ships grow curious, with their masts they do spy.
Here’s the bed that I’ve made, in the sea where I’ll lie;
I wave “goodbye, goodbye!” as I fall from the sky.