Chasing Clouds Out Of His Bleary Sky
The unbearable grief he never wished for or imagined
made him a secluded man shunning all Humanity;
he clung to a feeble breath so void of each certainty,
telling himself he had to fight harder and be admired.
I saw him chasing clouds out of his bleary sky
with an urge stronger than desire, " Let no hope
be held from me, I deserve joy unlikely anybody."
What made change his mind staring at that rope?
How many bottles of rum he had stored in his hut?
Did the small paycheck he earned cover the hefty price?
At no vail, he tried to rob the local liquor store twice;
nobody bailed him out, prison brought despair not guilt.
He sits in the coldest room staring at the darkest sky,
who dares to shake his hand and lift him up to mollify
his confined spirit not emboldened by actual reality?
Help him overcome his dire loneliness and sobriety!
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