Eyes Of Mr D (Part 3) - Poem by David Harris
(The author recommends that you read Parts One and Two before reading this.)
For a week, he frantically looked
for her at the bus stop
and the surrounding area.
Unfortunately, he could not see her anywhere.
It was as if she had vanished into thin air.
He bought most every paper,
looking for her picture there somewhere,
but it never appeared.
At his ground floor flat, he paced about.
She was on his mind constantly.
He need to find her,
but was lost on what to do.
He could not go to the police;
they would take him as a crank,
or worst still,
accuse him of being a murderer.
He had to get them to listen.
The question was how?
The next day he drew out some money,
then went to the bad side of town,
and purchased himself an illegal gun.
He set out writing a note
saying everything he had to say.
He could not go any longer living this way.
He need to escape the torment
and helplessness he felt.
He could not go on with his feelings tide,
the only way out he could see was suicide.
Now he had a weapon to help him with his quest.
One single bullet
and fate would do the rest.
Sitting in the sunlight,
suddenly he could see
a time, a place and a date.
What did it all mean?
He would have to visit the place
before he performed his final act.
He had to know what was there.
Next morning he travelled to the place,
a park with a lake and wooden bridge.
Dotted around the side of the lake
were park benches and several people sitting there.
The wooden bridge spanned the lake at a narrow part.
He had seen enough,
and he knew what he had to do.
At his flat he passed a neighbour,
he put his gloomiest expression on.
He did not talk,
just nodded with a long engraved frown.
He past them in the hall.
Entering the flat,
he sat at the table just visible from the door.
He lifted the gun and pointed at his temple.
It had to end now and forever more…
Outside in the hall the neighbour
heard the shot and something heavy fall.
Rushing to their flat the emergency services called.
Within in minutes a police car arrived,
and pulled up outside the flat.
The anguished neighbour rushed out to them.
She explained what had happened
and everything that she had heard,
the shot and the loud thump.
One of the Constables rushed
to the front door of the flat.
He shouted out the name
the neighbour had told him.
However, no answer came back.
The neighbour then explained
she had a spare key
because he used to be blind.
She gave it to the Constable.
He inserted the key in the lock
and then gave it a twist.
The door swung open.
To be continued……
7 June 2007
Comments about Eyes Of Mr D (Part 3) by David Harris
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You