Sparkatale

It's a little tick
Inside of the brain;
A horrible trick
Causing such disdain.

Coming to a time
No more effort to fight.
Sorrow is the crime
And wrong is now right.

A hand that quivers
In the loneliest dark
A body that shivers
From a suicidal spark.

To sit and isolate;
Cry through the day
Leads to devastate;
Points to another way.

Laying in the dark alone
Tears rolling from her face
Wishing she had made it known
Her life was just a waste.

Just beside her bed
Inside the nightstand drawer
Happiness that she never said
Lurked behind the little door.

Before she put them to her lips
She thought of him with a smile
Swallowed them with a little sip
And laid down for a while.

Somewhere in the world outside
He never had a clue.
She hoped he knew just how she tried
To hold herself so true.

And in the lonely night
The pain drove itself in deep
Into her eyes, no longer bright...
She forced herself to sleep.

When he tried to see her...
Never knew that he would drown...
Never got to reassure her
He wouldn't let her down...

And amongst the tears that flowed
He found a letter kept obscured
Feeling sick when the notice showed
Her public outcry was unheard.