1. The Charcoal Man
Who am I? What is my permanence?
I am etched in charcoal
On a board that everyone else owns
They have smudged and rubbed
nudged and dubbed
judged and snubbed all that I am
In favour of what they want
Whoever I am now
I am their product.
He's much like everyone else-unique,
Underneath the adhesions of his own choices
Which made him like everyone else.
You can tell someone who has killed himself
But not if they nearly did.
In a desert that only they feel
There are mirages that only they see
A palm full of pills,
A razor hovering over the wrist,
A gun neatly placed in the mouth.
And if he'd done it he could haunt all those
Who caused him so much pain.
But as it is he haunts himself, you see it sometimes
In his eyes
And he's not like anyone else, he's unique
And he's made his own choices.