Monday, April 20, 2015

For Karl

Pacing
Pondering
In my mind
Letting thoughts provoked unwind
Pushing forth the confession, signed
All the time
Sitting in my evening chair
Sitting there and wandering
Wondering
Wishing, ill, that pill may come
And let me die
In peace and quiet contemplation
No!
But she should go
Not I
And I am left to die alone
Another day
But I refuse to waste away
So here I stand
On elevated pseudo-land
Rope in hand
Ready for the drop and sudden stop
To let my suffering end.

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