the red drips from his eyes
filling them over with a bright stain
no need to cry the hurt is gone
but remains the pain, black, angry, and
dark seeping through his
depression as he takes the gray cold
steel in his hand and that blank
fuzzy spot when you can’t think pops
into his head, making him turn to look
outside at the children playing in their
green rubber rainboots and he glances
at the calendar where the day is marked
with a red circle which makes him think and
turns his eyes red again