Deep breaths huffed as a man stood tall on a plastic chair,
Dry tears marking his face, and the rope hanging by his hair.
His bristly arms reached for the deadly noose,
Then tugged at it making sure it wasn't loose.
He slipped the loop around his throat,
Another deep breath booming like the engine of a boat.
The man leaned toward the edge,
On his toes, he feared his ledge.
The chair then wobbled as it hit the tiled floor,
Hushed, raspy pleads echoing through his door.
Then all was silent, and all was dull.
Except for the swinging of a corpse.
