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.]
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