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Robert W Service - My SuicideRobert W Service - My Suicide
Work rating: Medium


I`ve often wondered why Old chaps who choose to die In evil passes, Before themselves they slay, Invariably they Take off their glasses? As I strolled by the Castle cliff An oldish chap I set my eyes on, Who stood so singularly stiff And stark against the blue horizon; A poet fashioning a sonnet, I thought - how rapt he labours on it! And then I blinked and stood astare, And questioned at my sight condition, For I was seeing empty air - He must have been an apparition. Amazed I gazed . . . no one was there: My sanity roused my suspicion. I strode to where I saw him stand So solitary in the sun - Nothing! just empty sew and land, no smallest sign of anyone. While down below I heard the roar Of waves, five hundred feet or more. I had been drinking, I confess; There was confusion in my brain, And I was feeling more or less The fumes of overnight champagne. So standing on that dizzy shelf: "You saw no one," I told myself. "No need to call the local law, For after all its not your business. You just imagined what you saw . . ." Then I was seized with sudden dizziness: For at my feet, beyond denying, A pair of spectacles were lying. And so I simply let them lie, And sped from that accursed spot. No lover of the police am I, And sooner would be drunk than not. "I`ll scram," said I, "and leave the locals To find and trace them dam bi-focals."
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