Existing is not something I can do anymore.

There is nothing I could have done.

I apologize for my untimely death.

Growing weak of the daily routine.

It made me hateful of life.

I ached for multiple rounds of ammunition.

To be bludgeoned by alienating amputation devices.

And hit by city buses which carried low-wage workers to their offices.

I am without a home and without a heart.

Standing here witnessing injustice is wrong.

I’d only bleed indefinitely if I stayed one more day.

So, the last day has come.

Tomorrow once again

Wishing for a tidal wave of thorns to penetrate my heart.

© 2006 David Greg Harth

06.03.07.13:26:00@205HudsonNYC