His Father Was the Ambassador to Spain
But he never saw his Own Sons Pain
He came to a spiritual retreat.....
With his Darkness to defeat
His anxiety Cut like a Knife
With no Solace in his life
He prayed over scripture Daily
But the Battles he was Failing
On a Dark Saturday Night
With a Dull serrated Knife
He took his Life, he kept
Slicing till it was Done
The knife to dull to do it in One
In the Kitchen of the Annex he was found
Lieing Still cold and face down on the ground
They rushed him to North Charles Hospital
Though Doctors battled it was Fatal
I walked in the Annex Door.....
And found Ruth tears streaming
Kneeling as she mopped up the Floor
The flood of Blood Red
Was all that's left of the dead
I carried this memory for 45 years
And still today the memory brings me tears
With all the Ambassadors Rich Connections
Nothing can replace the Loss of a Son
As witness to this, I felt I must Pen
So one small soul isn't forgot in the end