He cries sitting, waiting, I don’t know why, sad I guess.

Tears seem to follow the path of the one before, as stray drops
of sadness dare to go their own way down his cheeks,
dropping aimlessly to the floor.

Its Thursday, almost the end of the week, he should be glad the
end of the week is arriving like the week before.

He can’t jar loose a picture stuck in his head, it continues to
bounce off the inner surface of his skull, as
he sits crying on the edge of his bed.

Life has given him much, but taken away more. While a clock
ticks loudly from its mount on the wall. He thinks about the
drawer, and thinks again.

A stray thought hits him, that he is getting way to slim.

Where did that come from? He hadn’t a clue. As memories
become garbled and nothing seems true. Tears keep falling
as he opens the drawer, pulls out a gun and falls to the floor.


© 2010 Charles Dennis


http://www.charlesdennis.netne.net