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.