The Suicide Kid

I went to the worst of bars
Hoping to get
Killed
But all I could do was to
Get drunk
Again
Worse, the bar patrons even
Ended up
Liking me
There I was trying to get
Pushed over the dark
Edge
And I ended up with
Free drinks
While somewhere else
Some poor
Son-of-a-bitch was in a hospital
Bed
Tubes sticking out all over
Him
As he fought like hell
To live
Nobody would help me
Die as
The drinks kept
Coming
As the next day
Waited for me
With its steel clamps
Its stinking
Anonymity
Its incogitant
Attitude
Death doesn't always
Come running
When you call
It
Not even if you
Call it
From a shining
Castle
Or from an ocean liner
Or from the best bar
On earth (or the
Worst)
Such impertinence
Only makes the gods
Hesitate and
Delay
Ask me: I'm
72