Poetry: Reflections of a Suicide
"All of The Grey That Matters"
Red blood wine, and wasting time
Crying for; a love like yours and mine
One that will never be again
One that will never end
Rivers of tears
Seasoned with fears
A whisper of, Thees kissed
That so desperately is missed
Elusive dreams and hints of
Scenes; that have since past
The terrors of those forgotten scenes
That.. will.. never.. be, again
Insights into what is in store
For a man floored; and in pain
He tries and tries and
Yet, he can not refrain
From these images of; his love
Sneaking around in his misery
He uses them, as you did him
He holds them; prisoners all
As he does you; just as in the past
The love, that wouldn't last
His heart is shattered like the crystal glass
Splintered by a high sped note; which forever sung
Whistling out in the barrel of a gun
Every little shard; falling hard, and wet
Discarded and then sent
To the dust cover floor
These shards, land in a spray
With the Un sipped blood red wine
There they are, forever mixed
With all the “Grey Matter”; that was
All that mattered, to the decease man
Forever mingled; with his life's blood
And the sweet red wine
Love that aged; too soon, upon the vine
by
Sinbad the Sailor Man
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