The hanging tree..

April, poetry month number eleven. Sometimes. We cannot win, sometimes. We are not allowed to know kindness. The gift of love had forgotten us. Or maybe we have forgotten love?

The hanging tree...

In 1991, I needed nothing, I wanted nothing. I was seeking the good death.

A pretty lady with the saddest eyes in Michigan, she asked me. What are seeking Johnnie?

You want death and the hanging tree is always waiting for us,

wanting and needing nothing. Death will find us.

I told her, sweet lady, kind lady. We are just flesh and bones seeking the flesh,

seeking the whiskey and waiting for death to take us. We have turned cold, so damn cold.

We don't seek love, no-more.

Once I search for God,

once I searched for the Devil.

I learn, we can't change a world,

that doesn't want to be changed.

The world is seeking death and the good things are hanging in silence

on the hanging tree.

She was still a beauty and I could see in her eyes. Hopeful glances,

that I could make her smile. Her eyes filled with the heaviness of sadness,

her voice begging for pieces of kindness.

We could talk and when the whiskey kicked in and we would find the cheap motel.

She would whisper to me. Please be kind, please make me believe. 

I am special, I am beautiful.

We would found each other on the loneliness of night,

tried to create passion with whiskey kisses and we grasped at tenderness.

I told her on a September night. We cannot be.

You have a life and I cannot steal you away.

Somehow we found the place where we are seeking the hanging tree.

Where we cannot be. I a sorry my dear love.

We are reaching for a miracle, that cannot be.

I saw in her eyes. I taught her. Love wasn't her blessing.

I remember our last kisses and her hunger to know the kindness of gentle hands.

She left Michigan and she found the hanging tree in Nevada.

Love had broke her and she gave in to the drugs and greed.

She died alone.

In 1993, I went to Reno and I found the hanging tree.

I sat by a lonely grave and I told the night.

Please kind friend, please my kind lover.

I pray you found peace.

Coyote

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[Poetic Beauty]

For many people life is not kind and terrible things happen along the way causing depression, alcohol and drug use to try to numb the pain and misery only creating more.

This is a sad story of two lost souls trying to find a bit of happiness and tenderness that shall not be between the two and later ends in tragedy of someone giving into the hanging tree.

[Coyote Poetry]

Yes she did. Thank you dear friend for reading and the comment. I got lucky and war taught me. I could do better. Poor Cheryl found the bad people and the hanging tree.

[Poetic Beauty]

I have had probably five friends from my childhood and teen years meet the hanging tree. Drug use is a terrible thing and not a damn thing anyone can do about. That person has to decide to get away from it on their own. It’s heartbreaking

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree my friend. I have lost four brother to drugs and alcohol. Died young.

[Poetic Beauty]

It’s never easy