The Freak-Out GhostA Poem by David Lewis PagetI’ve long been pondering suicide, My life is such a mess, I thought to try on the other side, It couldn’t be worse than this, I’d always been such a coward though My pain threshold is low, I wondered how I could kill myself With just one simple blow. I didn’t fancy to cut my throat There’s such a lot of blood, And somebody has to clean it up They’d curse me, as they should, A gunshot straight to the head would put My brains all over the wall, And everything would be grey and red With a blood-spray in the hall. So I considered a poison pill And a quart of Mister Beam, That might just happen to fit the bill For a death, both quick and clean, But where would I get a poison pill To accelerate my death? I’d hate to die when I’m feeling ill, Fighting for every breath. I’d pondered on it so very long That it quite obsessed my mind, And I began to see shapes and figures From some other time, The ghosts of others who’d gone ahead And done the evil deed, Were poisoned, shot, or their throats were cut When their own lives were in need. They seemed to come when the clock struck twelve Just on the midnight hour, That’s when the demons that rot in hell Can demonstrate their power, They kept on coming to egg me on To get on that fatal bus, ‘You need to do it, it isn’t wrong, You can join with all of us!’ They almost had me convinced that I Could drown myself in the sea, Or pick my favourite river then, One that appealed to me, They said to drown was a pleasant death I’d drift away in a dream, And none would know that I’d killed myself, It’s an ‘accidental’ theme. The next night there came a stranger to This ghostly neighbourhood, Trailing festoons of river weed And covered in clods of mud, His face was twisted in anguish and Such pain, that now I see, Why I have suddenly changed my mind, That freak-out ghost, was me! David Lewis Paget
© 2017 David Lewis PagetReviews
|
StatsAuthor
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|