A man at the end of his rope hangs himself from the rafters A crowd of frowning faces contemplates the horrid act A million conjectures ensue the inevitable questions of what went wrong and whether foul play was involved The scattered notes make it clear to desolate friends and close kin that they failed - that their care was too weak and did not suffice "If only I had..." is heard time and again, amidst lamentations and regrets of missed chances, of unanswered calls To indignant moralities such incidents are sure proof of our sinful nature Whilst others point out his shortcomings and assert he won't be missed Some will be silent, others wear black still others will grieve in personal ways consoling themselves with children and wives and oceans and skies The painful months pass and some will forget, whilst others cannot Some will transcend, but for others the wounds will not heal To let go of him, they let go of themselves and so we must all, let go ourselves in small ways and grand, in times and times, and times again Marcus Aurelius once reflected that great men were long forgotten that once remembered the great men time had forgotten Forget me today whilst I live for I am already but a ghost long forgot Forget, forget, my words and deeds for these are already lost, in the mists of time 25 XI 2004