Aspen's Misery.

Aspen on the roof,
Cold, bitter wind
Blowing through like icy knives.
"Fuck this life."
Whispered words
So full of pain and regret.
One step, two,
Out into the frigid air
Water whipped from tear stung eyes
She falls, tumbling and spinning
Free for a moment,
One soaring second of bliss
Seeing clearly
Casting away her misery.
And she dies,
splayed on the tarmac
Like a discarded rag doll,
A lost and broken thing.



Well, a nice cheery little poem for you there. I'm actually in a good mood, so I don't know where that came from, just shows, you don't have to be depressed to write depressing poetry!