Poems to Leave Streaks of Ink

The Bridge

Warnings: Suicide, suicidal thoughts

I went up to the bridge at dark

While the stars shone bright above

I gripped the metal in my hands

Giving myself a mental shove

But then the man was by my side

Although I did not hear him come

He greeted me quite jovially

Asked for my name and where I'm from

I spat the answers out coldly 

Hoping he would get a clue

But he smiled and then said

How much he truly loved the view

He claimed he came here quite often

But rarely when the sun was out

His prattling was endless and

It made me want to scream and shout

Having had enough I left

I stormed away back to my car

Vowing to come back once more

As I drove to the nearest bar

But when I got there the next day

He was standing at the rail

He stared into the lake below

Seeming so depressed and frail

I think I must have made some noise

For when I looked upon him next

He was grinning ear to ear

And I was scowling, but, perplexed

Was what I saw in front of me

A mask that he put on his face?

Besides the view what was his cause

For coming  to this lonely place?

We talked and talked for hours 'til

The sky above began to gray

He spoke of his lovely wife

And I of bills I couldn't pay

We said our goodbyes though I wished

Just a bit that we could stay

I asked to walk him to his car

But he said it was far away

I can't tell you how many times

I went and stood beside the man

Nor the day that I gave up

On what had been a foolish plan

Then one night the man was gone

For hours I stood there, alone

And while I wanted to be mad

I worried why he hadn't shown

I tried to look him up online

But couldn't help the rush of shame

When I realized that somehow

I did not ever catch his name

Still I searched and searched again

Until I found his face beside

An article thirty years old

Regarding how the man had died

His wife had passed in childbirth

The doctors thought his son died too

So the man jumped off the bridge

The father never even knew

The son, in fact, was still alive

With no one to look over him

No family on either side

His life started out rather dim

I don't know how I missed the signs

None of what he said was lies

I wish that I had known the truth

Or recognized his sky-blue eyes

I pursed my lips and took a breathe

Let out a broken, shaky laugh

Grabbed a bottle from my fridge

And drank on my old man's behalf

I decided to write a sort of short-story for a change. If you liked it, let me know! I might write more in this style:)