Two lonely men on a beach

I went to Scratby one stormy night,
But not to enjoy a walk, on the sand, by the moon’s milky light.
I drove in a fog and welcomed the rain,
Blasting out Nirvana, full of bitterness and rage.

Parked up on the clifftop as I watched the waves spill,
Wondered what would be quicker, the fall or wet chill.
Dangled my legs for a while, over the crumbling edge,
With all the ‘I’m useless’ thoughts that had entered my head.

Then I saw a lone man, walking his old dog on the sand,
And thought if he could push forward, then I most certainly can.
Although I know not about him, just an assumption that I make,
I didn’t want to leave others lonely, to struggle in my wake.

So I dusted myself off and got back in to my car,
You have obligations, you don’t get to choose when’s au revoir!‘.
I remind myself I was strong, it was positive what I concluded,
But I can’t shake the guilt of the action to which I alluded.

2 Comments

  1. This is quite chilling, but donโ€™t be guilty, man. I almost did the same one day in November. Had been thinking about it for most of a year. I was actually going to do exactly the same as you just described, just see how it feels, but I got sidetracked because a few friends happened to phone me about something else.

    You didnโ€™t do it, thatโ€™s all that matters, and rather than feel guilty about this action you can be proud that you Havenโ€™t done the worse action. Who knows, maybe doing this action has prevented you from doing the worse one, on another day. Which was actually part of my motivation. Not that anybody would recommend it of course, but maybe this was necessary to remind yourself of how strong you are. Doing crazy things whilst deeply suffering is par for the course, for sure ๐Ÿ™‚.

    You can message me if youโ€™re feeling like this again, if it would help.

  2. Thanks for the comment Robin, appreciated. Certainly one of my more challenging poems to write.

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