10-16-2013, 09:43 PM
my bad October suicide poem
I cling to a crag with anxious hands,
balanced on cliffs aloft forlorn lands.
The ugly world beneath me calls,
I watch atop the mountain walls.
If I leaped, and like a rock should fall,
would I truly make a sound at all
with no one nearby
to hear?
I cling to a crag with anxious hands,
balanced on cliffs aloft forlorn lands.
The ugly world beneath me calls,
I watch atop the mountain walls.
If I leaped, and like a rock should fall,
would I truly make a sound at all
with no one nearby
to hear?
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris