The Painting in Verse

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He holds onto the poison rope

for dear life

though he knows this prolongs

his end.

It tears

It burns

It rips into his flesh.

Below, jagged rocks

await his drop -

a thousand feet -

instant death for sure.

Hanging by the umbillicus

being held by those in the past.

He hears them laughing

from beyond the cliff ledge

knowing he will not let go.

Below is an end to pain.

At the bottom, grief shall vanish

in an instant.

He would feel the fall -

he might even scream

though he knows relief is at his feet.

He weeps -

not at the pain, nor

the ridicule. No.

The tears come

for he knows

he has come to depend on them.