From The Clouds

Every night as she falls asleep,
An image of my body appears.
The last time she ever saw me,
The only thing she’ll ever remember me for.
The Priest claimed suicide was a sin.
But little did he know,
Most people in attendance were
Slowly killing themselves each day.
They run around trying to finish errands.
They don’t smile,
They don’t hug.
They just run.
Ignoring the flowers,
Jumping over cracks in the pavement,
Rushing to get to church
So their sins are purged.
Purging sins just to commit sin
The second they step out of the door.
Going to church just to say
They went to church.
I think that God would forgive suicide,
But I don’t think that this town will ever forgive me.
Oh, the irony.