What a tangled web we weave by Anne Howe
Like a spider, he clings to the single thread
Of his own manufacture
Is his doing also his undoing?
Has he taken the plunge
The journey to the point of no return?
Were his cries unheard?
Perhaps he didnt cry
Laughter was his shield
It kept the world at a distance
And himself protected
No longer does he need to laugh
No longer can he cry
Unable to ascend the fine thread
To the tangled web now woven
His will is to just let go
Freedom at last
The sleep of death
Now another statistic
A vacant space in the human register
But to those who loved him
A perfect specimen
Only he saw the blemishes!
Goodnight, Daniel
Sleep tight.
Daniel decided that he couldnt live any longer and was found dead on the morning of monday 8 July in his 25th year
.although he had carefully planned his own death his friends and family were unable to see through the exhuberant facade
07/14/2002 Posted on 07/14/2002 Copyright © 2024 Anne Howe
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