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Personal Note:

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Poem

I nearly took my life today,
No knife or rope or gun,
Instead, the weapon was the truth,
The bleeding has begun,
It needs to ooze out all my pores,
Before first signs of healing,
And sting from disappointment,
Of a life without much feeling,
It wasn't always like this,
You flourished for a while,
Until your id and ego,
Were fueled with your beguile,
You only meant to honor,
The gifts you gleaned from life,
But, when choices became harder,
You bailed and turned to strife,
Pain was so much easier,
To inflict and then possess,
No matter who the person,
Or what the instance did suggest,
No pain, no gain, some do say,
But with positive intentions,
Not for wicked martyrs,
Doing things we should not mention,
I watch the blood, it's flowing now,
It makes me strong and weak,
It shouts at me to get up,
And find a life to seek,
Not something blue and pearly,
Just some quality existence,
Which will appear like magic,
With solid, pure persistence,
As for others, as they watch you,
To see coagulation,
The only thing important,
Is your own self-jubilation,
If they decide to follow,
You'll know you're headed west,
Because the honest you,
Is the one they like the best.

(4/15/98)

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