......Doves Don'T Cry Poem by elysabeth faslund

Suicide in many ways,
Places, times...but the worst...
Sightless.

Never hearing birdsong,
Surely is accursed.
Seeing birds' beaks moving...
Knowing song is sung.

Seeing feathered beauty,
The minds' song...perfect.

I felt your clumping failures,
Heard you shattering the mirror.
I heard your slamming of the door,
And saw you even clearer.

The sightless see.
Some eyes will never
Glow with Light.
You judged that 'clever'.

Your path had best be straight,
For your way is very long.
I gifted you with a Dove.
You never heard its song.