At day's end, your love is like a ditch full of weeds.
A rotting pumpkin, a returned letter,
a dead yellow cat in the grass.
At day's end, the bum drowns in the river
while trying to bathe.
The soul is deep in atrophy, and the goldfish
floats to the top of the bowl.
At day's end, your accusations attack like cicada killers.
Your eyes are soulless, and
the clown is a killer.
At day's end suicide is a viable option,
the light has been murdered.
Jack the ripper got away,
and the night goes mad with horrid dreams.
At day's end, the sailboat sinks,
the horse breaks it's leg in the backstretch
and neither your dog nor your hope will fetch anymore.
At days end there is a shadow behind the orchid.
Your vagina has teeth, and the bull becomes a steer.
At day's end, the planets fall in the ocean,
the noon is an illusion, and romantic love
is gored in the streets of Chile.
At day's end, my Alice won't leave Wonderland
- the dormouse dies, and the dodo still can't fly.
At day's end Don Quixote burns at the stake.
Robin hangs in his lonely closet.
Peter goes out upside down, and old Ernie shotguns his way out.
Topic(s) of this poem: death,depression,love