What's Another Word for Lament?

Kurt Cobain. My first love. Friendship destroyed by crystal meth.

I'm not quite sure just where to begin or even how it'll end.
All I can do is watch the embers burn to a gorgeous ash of grey.
So let's start from the beginning, the aesthetic beginning.
Why does it seem like I try oh so hard to push him away?
They say the grass is always greener.
But I see no grass on my side of the fence.
A far away distance, I see the boy lay upon the train tracks.
For my actions, how can I ever f*****g repent?
I can't find where I lost the boy at..will he sleep alone?
Words are just that; I've spoken without forethought.
The train steams forward. He breathes a sigh of relief.
But at the last moment the train switches tracks. He's overwrought.
Anger sweeps through this once peaceful man.
Tears are just salty drops of weakness to him now. What a change.
I've found him now at the station, awaiting a girl named Jane.
I hope this isn't the end. The boy makes it appear strange.
He's back on the tracks. Nothing can stop him now.
Upon his chest and legs sit heavy cinders. It approaches fast.
I take a seat, back a few feet, and light a good-bye cigarette.
It hits. Shake my head and laugh. Should've known it wouldn't last.



-the Kate Vegas
September 29th, '06

 

 

©Kate Vegas

 

Reviews

[Kurt Gargis]

There's only one thing I can say about this...You captured the feeling of bitterness so well in this work that it is the only thing in my mind when I think about the poem.

[Emily_.]

Sorry, I have to post something again - I got my ratings in a bit of a mess, so I'll leave you another one to try and sort it out.

[Emily_.]

"Tears are just salty drops of weakness to him now"
That, is sheer briliance.
The whole thing is very well written.