I’ve been inspired by Paul Hensman and his lovely poetry that he shares with all of us on 43things. This is only vaguely on the topic of writing a book but it fits here better than anywhere else. I consider this my greatest poem and it was certainly the hardest to write. It is dedicated to the memory of Michael Butler, a classmate of mine who took his own life just over two years ago at the age of 20. You are missed, Michael.

Questions

Why did you do what you did?
On that tragic day in september?
How did you feel so abandoned
That loneliness was all you could remember?

How did the pain get so bad
That you couldn’t continue to try?
How did the emptiness hurt so much
That it was easier just to die?

You had so much to live for
Its easy for me to see
Why couldn’t you look beyond the darkness
And see all you had left to be?

Your picture is there in my yearbook
Class of 2004
Everyone imagining their future years
We never dreamed you had only two more

You wanted to be an attorney
And drive a fancy car
Thats where you said you’d be in ten years
Why didn’t you make it that far?

What were your final thoughts that day
About the misery nobody knew?
Why couldn’t you see all those who cared
And would have helped you through?

One week too late, I saw them all
I sat with them and wondered still,
Why couldn’t we see your secret pain?
And the agony that was so real?

Many talked to you on that day,
Could you hear the nice things that were said?
Why couldn’t they have said them to you,
Before you were alone and dead.

I never will have all the answers
For why those blue eyes ceased to be
All I know is you’re in heaven now
With the One who handed you eternity.