Death of a Gentleman
© 1996 Jediah Logiodice
He began,
Soft as a summer breeze,
Blowing against a lighted
Candle,
Quiet as a kitten’s cry,
Wanting only the serenity
Of his mother’s warm milk,
Comforting as a plush toy
Stuffed with caring cotton’s
Wintry lucidity.
But the hidden pain
Of love’s poison arrow
Has crushed his spirit.
Now the summer breeze
Is a tropical storm,
Caring not what anyone
Else thinks,
Ravaging.
The cry,
Is no longer
That of a kitten,
But a loud mournful
Caterwaul,
Like a ruttish cat
Longing for a mate.
Alas,
The plush toy
Has been worn from use
And misuse.
And its caring cotton
Has been stained
From its travels.
Up and down,
Up and down,
Being dragged through the
Tainted emotions of others.
And so,
The soft, caring, quiet
Gentleman,
Has been murdered.