Whenever I sit in my room,
surrounded with feelings of doom,
a book I then read,
and the dark clouds recede,
it’s peaceful, that I presume.
Peter Frederick
http://www.peterfrederick.org http://www.life-on-the-road.com
The man wakes up – ‘What dreadful day!’
His little cat did hear him say;
His wife with open mouth and wide,
And loud, shrill voice, they hear her chide.
The whole street down her voice does ring
and all the neighbours feel its sting,
But devastating most it is
For this old man who’s soon deceased.
‘It’s time that all inferno ends,
I want no more of life, so-called,
Where pleasure long ago has stalled,
Existence means unending drag!’
His will to live did always sag
But what she adds and without shame,
He cannot put up more with same.
For him the morning’s dark around,
And with determination sound,
He points the pistol to his head,
A trigger-pull, a shot is heard,
A body ’s slumped, a life receding,
Fast and with minimum of bleeding
And without feeling sorrow, pain,
His life is gone – he’s lived in vain!
Peter Frederick
