Wednesday, August 20, 2014

No More Laughter

(For Robin Williams)

He hung himself.
Sat in a chair with a pocket knife and made some superficial cuts to the inside of his left wrist.

Was he out of punchlines?
While making so many others happy, on the inside was he screaming for help?

In the Dairy Queen picture he looked so gaunt and frail.
Were all the many voices in his head overcrowding and overwhelming any hope for inner peace?

Improvising on stage without a net is hard enough.
Improvising in life without a net is a whole other tin cylinder of napalm.

He stood up there on stage conducting a symphony of jokes with his unstoppable energy.
He stood in front of us showing just how beautiful and human a court jester can be.

I have a feeling he was tired of making promises to himself he knew he would not keep.
I have a feeling he was sick and tired of feeling so dead inside while there was so much life all around him that he could not afford to let in.

He hung himself.
In a room all by himself he made a choice that ended his life and I pray also ended his pain.

Charles Cicirella

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