[net.suicide] A poem

djm@nmtvax.UUCP (06/21/84)

<if this is eaten, was it here?>
A somewhat troubled friend wrote this recently :

Alone, often in fact, always in mind, he stumbles through life.
Those who care hold their tongues, afraid to show the inner self;
He who is alone knows not their mental drift.
The blood is spilt, Death welcomed as a friend;
One question he asks before his final journey.
It is not 'Am I to be Judged,' nor
'Am I to meet those who have gone before.'
His last, unanswered question is all that remains :
'Are there those who will mourn for me?'

			John Miller

	Rube Goldberg II
	(djm@nmtvax)