Something Missing

He would often wonder why he was so blue

There didn't seem to be anything wrong

But, sometimes he got a feeling, like he had the flu

He'd felt empty and spent, certainly not strong

Frequently, he'd catch himself just thinking

In my existence, there is something missing

Often times, he felt there was a thing he wasn’t seeing

Like a great secret, hidden from his presence

“What could it be?” he thought.

Everything he had, money, a big white house

Fancy car, a sailboat, a nice dog, and lots of toys

He'd the best of jobs, a pretty wife, but he felt like a louse!

He just sat at home, and refused to go out with the boys

He'd started to feel defenseless, and even a bit paranoid

He just moped around the house, or fall asleep with a book

The grass started to get long and his wife became annoyed

Everything was perfect, but he felt like a big fish on a hook

“I have to do something about this!” he screamed at the trees

One day, he was searching for something in the closet, when

He heard someone calling his name, from under his bed

This was strange, because he was alone and his wife wasn’t in

Until he heard it once again, he’d thought it was in his head

“Who is under that bed?” he spoke with a tiny squeak

He stood up and walked toward the bed, stopped, waited

There isn’t anyone under the bed, he thought

He peered underneath the bed, because he felt he should

Lying underneath, was the old shotgun he’d bought

“Oh yeah, I’d forgotten that,” he whispered to himself

He tried to reach for it, but it had been pushed to far under

He went for his wife’s broom to use for a lever

Returning, he poked with the broom and spun the gun asunder

He poked once more, and accidentally hit the trigger

© Copyright G. Jones 2012

Photo by covertress.blogspot.com