Remembering a Comedic Genius

Sadness becomes the pall over depression’s bleak coffin Closing the florid lid on satin-encrusted chests of dismay Where the stench of a life is entrusted to death and decay Left in the hopeless depths of a dug-out trench, too often, Then promptly forgotten unless one is renown, say, a star* Whose life was made palatable by imaginative, fictional roles Seen on the silver screen, or the editing room floor, souls Of characters people like you and me can identify with afar. Yes, sadness as vanquishing as the dying bloom thirsting For water will eventually bend and wither overwhelmed While no one ever asks why, not even I who am compelled To confess with sadness my beleaguered heart is bursting. No epitaph suffices for one reaching for twinkling stars Comes crashing to a final exhalation covered with scars. Written June 14, 2021 [*In Memory of the incredibly talented Robin Williams who died by suicide caused by depression on August 11, 2014.]