Listening to the Birds

mikeschultz Wed Feb 08 2012, 20:50

Contemplating freedom with a gun in my trembling hand,
How is it I have come to be so far from all I know.
Where I am and how I got here is hard to understand.
My dad taught me to feel my pain but not let it show,
And now I hold my future in my hands, literally.
I must soon make a basic existential decision –
To live or to die and cease to live, it’s my choice really,
The ultimate and final choice open to each person.
The image reflected on the backs of my closed eyelids
Shows a man with a gun at his temple, eyes shut, crying.
That’s me I shout from deep inside and lick at my chapped lips.
I keep telling myself, Squeeze the trigger, and I’m trying
To listen to the birds instead of the voice in my head.
Listening to the birds, I’m living, otherwise, I’m dead.

Michael Schultz © February 8, 2012 (2140)

looby Thu Feb 09 2012, 00:18

ooh deep turmoil..
and its sad there are so many people in this world who feel this way...
good writing, Mike

jinettyx Thu Feb 09 2012, 02:50

Your poetry is getting deeper and deeper.....excellent writing though Mike.

mikeschultz Thu Feb 09 2012, 06:35

Thank you both, so much. Some say I'm too serious. I say I'm me. Like many of us, I have led a very serious life and some days I can scarcely manage a smile. Thanks for reading my work, and thank you for your comments.

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