An old poem I wrote

A friend of mine asked if I still had the short story I wrote in school that I referred to in my last blog posting but I had to respond that, although I thought I had kept it, the story has become lost in the mists of time.  I have tried to duplicate the original story on a couple of occasions but it proved impossible to duplicate emotional heart that the original piece had so I abandoned any future efforts.  I did, however, write a poem about that particular incident in my life and so I present it here as my friend showed an interest in wnating to read it.

A Cry for Help

‘A cry for help’ is what it was called

The story of a desperate man

Whose life so full of sorrow

Ends with razor cuts in a lonely hollow.

A cry for help written in metaphorical blood

His soul laid bare on lined paper.

The tortured psyche of a desperate boy

Hoping for someone to understand

And maybe lend a helping hand.

A cry for help just left unanswered

Left alone to carry this burden

For too long, too long.

The scars left unattended

The pain grows into undreamed of agonies

It ends with a handful of pills.

A cry for help that you ignored

The pain you could have eased

But you were blinded by ignorance

The clues you did not see

That the man in the story I wrote

Was merely a reflection of me.

© Myles Cook, 2005, 2006