The troubled

Standing tall

While sitting on the edge of life

Looking up

All hopes gone

Nothing to hold on to

He was falling

Such an obvious unknown,

His name set in watery stone

A grave yard visited by fishes alone.

At his remembrance no recollection

Some will say he was a brave coward

Others a wise crazy fool.

Took his own life, using not a gun or knife,

Height and water were his weapons of choice.