Derryn BrintonWood


He Is Dead!


'Suicide' the headline screams
and everyone turns their head
too frightened, too shocked, too ignorant
To acknowledge that he is dead

Whispers in the corridors
as rumours slowly spread
An overdose, a bridge, a rope
a gun put to his head

A visit to the state mortuary
Where plattitudes are said
As slowly they draw the curtain
For a viewing of the dead.

Widow standing silently
As poetry is read
Mourners walking one by one
To the harbour they are led

Flowers scattered on the sea
A brightly fragrant bed
Whilst seagulls cry overhead
he is dead, he is dead, he is dead

Submitted: Monday, November 14, 2011
Edited: Monday, November 14, 2011
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