This poem was initially written many years ago after the suicide of a close friend. This new version has been changed to reflect a more dramatic, theatrical style, so read it as you would imagine a Shakespearean actor reading it. It’s meant to sound over the top.
I will not leave this earthly cell
though its ways crush my soul to level hope
and snaps my will from its lock
Though its sadness floods the banks
to drown all that’s good
And though its love opens hearts with promissory notes
then leaves with deep burnt holes
I will not leave this broken world
I will not leave
just yet
For of this troubled world, I am
Of the spider and the web
Of the prey with gossamer wing struggling to break free
Like death that flowers after heavy rains
And the stumbling feet of fated men
I too am destined to rise again
I cannot leave
who I am