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Two Hours After the Suicide

March 18, 2010
By Trent McMahon BRONZE, Centerville, Iowa
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Trent McMahon BRONZE, Centerville, Iowa
3 articles 1 photo 0 comments
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Memories sift through fingertips
Like sand, and all we recall is
That of a beggar recalls—
Of a better life; of food;
Of upholstered furniture.
We forget what hides in nighttime’s
Sweetest secrets:
Legions of memories—laughing, dancing—
Waiting to be found.

The author's comments:
This happened after a tragedy in my hometown: my neighbor committed suicide. We hardly knew each other, but, I turned my thoughts into reality with this poem, written at two in the morning.
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