His hand could barely hold the spoon, as he tried to keep the broth from burning
His sweaty hands couldn’t clench the steel, as he stirred repeatedly, turning
the gas flame from low to high, which was remarkably like what he was undergoing,
The pressure had mounted from the start, it was now boiling and that was showing.
He kept on looking at the broth he stirred, focussing on every ripple and all the swirls,
trying to block the thoughts in his head, and the playful screams of his little girls.
He knew he had nothing more to offer, and that was the telling blow to his pride,
The castle of dreams he built on sand, had long before been swept away with the tide
There was no job, no money, no roof, yet he persisted with trying to sustain,
the responsibility of being a family man, of trying to save them a world of pain.
He knew it was the end of the road because there was nowhere to go from here
He couldn’t go on hating tomorrow, for he resented being tied down by fear.
He recalled when he had decided to give, his own purpose a comprehensive throttle
He used the last of his money at the chemist, to buy death’s essence in a glass bottle.
Mercury is known to be a devastating toxin, which gave fate little chance to save
him from his inevitable destiny from the start, as another failure in a forgotten grave
He broke open the seal and heaved a sigh, ready to make a hole in his own boat,
He lifted the bottle of poison to his lips, waiting to tip its contents down his throat.
But the bottle swayed violently in his hands, he couldn’t coax himself to drink
What was it that caused him to stall like this? He paused a few seconds to think.
Then he realised where he had failed, he realised he’d be dying with a heart of stone,
It struck him as pure selfish cowardice, because he was trying to escape alone.
How could he even think of leaving, knowing his family would take the brunt?
It wasn’t right to call it backstabbing, because this’d be stabbing them in the front.
So he put the cooked broth into 4 portions, as the prospect of death loomed, unnerving,
He divided the Mercury into 4 doses, and added into each bowl a small but lethal serving
He tried but failed to hold tears back, as he carried the tray to the outer room
He silently prayed to God for forgiveness, for his hand in the impending doom.
He watched unsuspecting souls raise a toast to death, as he too lifted the bowl to his lip
He controlled his shuddering hands with difficulty, and then he too took the deadly sip.
He watched the faces contort with horror, as his eyes forced him to watch the interlude
But he seeks redemption in the fact, that all of them were leaving together... for good.
