Two Ways to Kill

the barn door hangs on one hinge,
and abandoned window frames lay on the ground,
panes broken, shards of glass on the ground.

Time has no idea the ruination it causes,
the cost of benign neglect
of a decade, nay more,

that slowly strips the paint off each board
and loosens windows until finally,
at the first gust of wind, they fall and break.
like love taken too long for granted.

This is, of course, not the only way to kill.
Brutality works as well,
even more efficient perhaps
in the end just as effective,

though likely not as satisfying to the murderer,
who prefers their damage loud and strong,
to see the pain rippling through the heart
of their victim

over the slow, unnoticed death by abandonment
that leaves no marks, but leaves you
just as dead.

About this poem.

I’ve been nearly taken down, emotionally, both ways. Don’t ask me which is worse. But noticing the zeal of the fast and hard killers, I think they get the most satisfaction.

Tom