Wait And See
There was something in the way he said it|
that would come to be a noxious potion.
I knew his mind had taken a shattering hit
but I wasn't full-tuned to his tone's emotion.
The Air Force had discharged him as unfit
so he wasted his nights lit by neon lights.
In grit-windowed bars his life was a pit.
I had to confront him thereby fostering fights.
'You're headed to nowhere seems to me,'
I said one night, driving him to his place.
His slurred answer of 'just wait and see'
was the potion that is now my disgrace.
Days later he vanished without a clue.
All attempts to reach him were fruitless.
'Have you seen him?' I asked all I knew
but my inquiries ended up as useless.
Years went by, then came the grim news.
Hunters found a rifle and bones in a heap
high in the hills off a trail seldom used.
'Wait and see' was a vow he did keep.
Why did the potion not put me on alert?
Why did I not see my friend had lost hope?
Why did I not grasp he planned lethal hurt?
Why did I not throw him a life-saving rope?
You know someone wounded as my friend.
Listen for words that forecast a deadly act.
Do not blithely their dark meaning suspend
and live a life of regret for failure to react.
(This is a true story.)
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