It's 2 a.m., on a cloudy night

as the man trudges down the street.

He looks at the ground, then over his shoulder

as he stumbles over his feet.

 

In his hand, an almost-empty bottle of Jack

he drinks away his pain.

The intoxication, putting him down more

taking him back to memory lane.

 

Drunk and drowning in his sorrows,

he finds that he cannot get away

From the image of his wife leaving,

that cloud and fog his brain

 

Upon the towering bridge,

he makes his way over to the edge.

He finishes off the bottle,

and climbs up onto the ledge

 

He looks down at the water,

that crashes against every rock and stone

knowing that if he does jump,

he no longer has to bare being alone. 

 

He chucks the bottle,

watches it descend in a plummet 

takes a final look at the picture

of his past love and says "fuck it!"

 

He rubs his hands through his hair

and takes one final breath

Then, in the blink of an eye

the man jumps to his death

 

Without a person in sight,

or a single star in the sky

drunk or sober,

the man on the ledge wanted to die.