Goodbye

There he stood, upon that ledge.
Barely a step, from the edge.

Looking down, upon far away ground.
There was no movement, and no sound.

Tears streamed down from that lonely face.
He stood no glory, nor no grace.

'Its all gone, why can't they see?
There's nothing left to take from me.'

'Nothing more I can give,
I've lost the fight, my will to live.'

One more step, one deep sigh.
He closed his eyes, and ceased to cry.

With his last words he whispered to,
Any one that he once knew.

'Good bye, and please don't cry for me.
Sure I'm gone, now you might see.

I couldn't take it anymore,
For all this hurt, there is no cure.

The pain it burned and killed my heart.
You all hated me from the start.

I only wish, the one that mattered,
Would have seen, instead that shattered.

He didn't even realize,
That I loved him; that I tried.

Goodbye, all, its time to die.'
And with that he plunged, from the sky.

His last words, with his last breath,
His last movement, what a mess.

The tears that shed, upon his grave.
The flowers that, weepers gave.

If only they would have showed,
How much they love it, that he glowed.

If only they would have seen,
The sadness that stole his dream.

And the one whose love he didn't know,
Echoed through his heart also,

Wept upon his grave that day,
Then followed him, the same way.

As the locusts sang in the twilight heat
The Sun no longer baked the city-street,
The lonely last was her to repeat.
August.

Her lonely soul ready to bare
Trying to hide her utter despair,
She wouldn't mind if there were someone to share,
August.

Seeing lovers in the park
Who would hold hands without a care,
She would cry inside, 'It just isn't fair."
In August.


May never comes too soon
June is the month to spoon
July just right for a honeymoon

But August?


July 16 1963

I
He was leaning by a face,
He was looking into eyes,
And he knew a trysting-place,
And he heard seductive sighs;
But the face,
And the eyes,
And the place,
And the sighs,
Were not, alas, the right ones—the ones meet for him—
Though fine and sweet the features, and the feelings all abrim.

II
She was looking at a form,
She was listening for a tread,
She could feel a waft of charm
When a certain name was said;
But the form,
And the tread,
And the charm,
And name said,
Were the wrong ones for her, and ever would be so,
While the heritor of the right it would have saved her soul to know!