Poem -



Would you say
That’s splattered?
Spread thin
Dropped from a great height

Strange how far it spread
No breath
No form
Just splat

Once planned,
Infectious laugh,
Blue eyes I think,
Now run together

Blond hair
A scattering of teeth
Looks like a sculptured nail
And a couple of fake eyelashes

It’s over
One downward flight
Problem ended
Pain gone

Nothing to see here
Mop it up
Use a fire hose
Bag and tag

Just an hour
Before shifts end
Gonna be a hard night
Unseeing this

I need to refresh my
Windshield washer fluid
The bugs are badΒ 
this time of year

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John DeFoore Jr

Aaah My friend,
being far from
the quill’s flourishΒ 
and the elegant tongued

i veto copious scribblingsΒ 
As crayoned gibberish
and relieve the reader
Of verbal nauseaΒ 

your kind comments,
as breaths of fresh air,
cause me to let something
slip through every now and then

thank you for reading


Cherie Leigh

HI John...What a horrible image it must be to find someone who has jumped to their death.Β  I would not want the job of cleaning the up.Β  I don't think I could ever become desensitized to such a tragedy.Β  Great portrayal of the life and job of those who respond to such a horrific scene. xo ;)

John DeFoore Jr

Thank you Cherie,
guess I was trying to show the attempt to trivialize and the problems of dealing with this sort of suicide.