Suicide
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| My Bridge of sighs divides in two a town... |
I stare into the river’s spew,
It mirrors dumb despair, -
why worry what the world will do
when one’s no longer there?
The grieving grass is hung with dew,
shaved, stumpy trees stripped bare; -
shivering ghosts of greyish hue
in sharp autumnal air.
My bridge of sighs divides in two
a town of spirit spare,
and therefore, by extension, too,
linked life to - God knows where.
Where are the friendships once I knew.
the love that two should share?
The once exciting avenue
of life’s an impasse where,
as I past happiness review
with emptiness compare,
the options, once so bright and blue,
too soon seem tarnished, wear.
Forlorn men fenced off from the blue,
worn faces, torn white hair -
from uniformity of view
I turn without a prayer.
For future life, reborn anew,
nor prayer, regret, nor dare,
a splash, some bubbles, all is through !
Will anybody care ?
18 June 1975
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