Poetry Blogs (suicide)
Twas the dawning of Father's Day, so said Facebook
Not a feeling was stirring, not even a fuck.
No flowers were planted by the headstone with care
Cos a mad pauper's grave can have no headstone there.
The children were restless, and not in their beds
Cos visions of suicide danced in their heads
Of white overalls and of tablets and shame
And sickness and pimping, a life quite insane.
Monday 6th January 2020 4:49 pm