I, only I, alone in full view,
With weapon in hand, mouth closed,
Hoping a voice, not a muse,
Will call, will save me from supposed

Dread I do not understand or love.
Stay my hand! Come sanity!
I cannot return to the above;
I dread the eternal calamity!

Keep me!  Hold me! Stave
Wretched mind darts against time!
I have no time; naught to save
For imagined moments sublime.

No help has come. I am alone.

Many times I wondered at your quietness,
And why you always sat so far off in the corner.
My frineds and I had lunch and talked,
While you usually ate apart,
Sometimes we discussed your quiet manner;
Your ways always seemed difficult to understand.

You and I were never really acquainted,
Although you were always just across the street.
And we met each morning and each afternoon,
I never thought we might actually talk,
Or say more than “Hello,” and “good-bye.”
Now I know that when I saw you walking yesterday,

I should have stopped and said something to help,
So that maybe you wouldn’t have killed yourself.

“There is no death for the young.”
Who the hell ever said it should be …
What’s the point …
Its over anyway.

NO!!! I don’t know.  Can’t be.  So clean.
Gone now.
Its a good memory,
It feels good to recall
the virtues.

All I can say
now is I’m sorry.

Why say more, or try
to rerun what ended.
Some things cannot
change.

Good-bye.