David Tallman

Goodbye, Dear Friend (A Depressing Elegy)

In a cold garage where lo’ the demons dance
Lay the wilted hand of man who never had a chance
Four horsemen trot encircl’ng, they sing a sooth’ng song
Jim, Jack, Jose, and Johnny abide to play along

Upon a sullen chair soaked with exploded heart
Bottle lay beside a rifle, both which played their part
An engine muffles vibrantly the smell of sweet decay
As a man emerges in the clouds where the angels lay
He stands besides Saint Peter, whisp’ring in his ear
That every bottle holds inside a trigger and a tear

A gasp of breath as he carves his name in the devil’s tree
With salt gleaming on his face he gazes down on me
A gate swings wide as children are soar’ng in the sky
The corners of his lips are peaceful as they’re being tied

Gliding through his rapture he takes his final bow
As another bottle lifts to face plastered with a scow
He holds a small white rose that never will awaken
Not after where his dark coach of sorrow has been taken
Beelzebub stirs the notion while whisp’ring in his ear
That every bottle holds inside a trigger and a tear

Poem Submitted: Monday, February 9, 2009
Poem Edited: Monday, February 23, 2009

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