His final Hour

By LeRose   

a mirror stood straight in his sight
a tub was filling to the right
he saw himself, so filled with shame
the way he hurt brought endless pain
the pearls seemed cold, of blue and white
yet they seemed to bring him peace at night
the drink he drank -- like gasoline
the spillage left a sorrow scene
I'm sorry he wrote, he felt it right
and in the corner, appeared in his sight
death came at him, gripping his knife
and he took the last breath of his bitter life.

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