You see a rope
You see useless thing without life
You walk on.
He sees a rope
He sees an end to all hope
He sees a weapon that takes life
He sees much more than a rope.
You walk into a café
You see a red chair
You see a beautiful colour
You order chicken and chips
He walks into the cafe
He sees a red chair
Suicide weapons almost complete.
No other colour to cover blood than red.
You set you food down
And begin in gluttony to gulp down
You eat and drink and watch TV
You are enjoying the rolling fan
Until the café is about to close down
You take your things and leave
He sneaks to the back and tied his rope
To the source of your own enjoyment
To his own suicide weapon – the fan
You insert the key to your car outside
He inserts his head into the rope
You enter and drive away
He closes his eyes and drives out
Out of the café, out of the world, out of life.
You and the man.