vi.

A cry for help
to the dead

They can't hear
so it's okay

v.

My short black hair
would soon grow
long. In times like
this I do not want to
remember you.

ii.

They say it's a fear of living
Yet they deny
That the other is a fear of dying

iii.

They say suicide is a sin
And your soul was sent to hell
But if that's true
How cruel your God is

iv.

Who needs God?
You were God once;
Now you can't be tamed.

Your pretty long hair
and splat of red on your right
cheek
You were God once;
Now you can't be tamed

You prudently hid your neck
to prevent jealousy ---
You danced wilder,
wilder than her; that Isadora
But no mother lets her daughter
stand so lonely
wild so uncontrollably

The long, long scarf
Keeps making legendary
blue and red and black
and black;
And black and back to blue
again
and red and black ---
The show
went on;
It still goes on.