The Phone (Like Him)
the sick old man
in the apartment cold and bare,
raises the gun to his head:
'God forgive me for what i do...'
a cut off notice from the electric company,
unopened on the table,
an eviction notice hanging
on the door...
his son's phone number by the phone,
but the phone, like him,
is dead!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
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