Goodbye

32

You were my picket fence

Protecting me from my anger,

and hiding my deepening depression derived

from fearful and anxious senses

Containing me only made me livid

and a finger to the lips

did nothing to negate that I was boiling

thousands of degrees, driven

beyond the arms of hope,

and wings of worthless angels

that floated above those medieval pictures

I just needed a rope

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6 thoughts on “Goodbye”

  1. I don’t believe I really thought you would commit suicide, but if someone feels that way, I don’t want to ignore them. If I can help, I will try. I’m glad your poem was just that…a poem. Nothing more. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

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