in
the tub I sit
I
feel depression in the air
water
spills over the edge
and
I really no longer care
slit
my wrist from here to there
I
thought it would hurt
was
upset I felt nothing
but
the pain in my heart
which
was profusely bleeding
all
over my reality
a
prayer breaks free
calls
on my darkest of hours
that
you might show up
I
don't have that type of power
I
drift off to promise land
found
dead by a stranger
Cinquain Poem
Copyright
© 2014 by Patrick B Vince
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