Friend

To depths uncharted
Within his brain
He plummeted
To make him sane

As he careened
From wall to wall
And downward sped
Unbroken fall

He begged for drugs
To silence fear
And deaden pain
And make us hear

His call went out
One heart to gain
Off granite walls
The echo came

Not having once
Struck caring ears
Nor moved a heart
To shed a tear

Then they wondered
Why from his shelf
He took a blade
And cut himself

I had him sewn
By unskilled hands
And had him wrapped
In sterile bands

In daily talks
He recognized
Himself reflected
From my eyes

His pain seemed soothed
By gentle strokes
Caressing thoughts
And little jokes

Through many months
We passed like this
The high rewards
More mine than his

But oh how fragile
That virgin trust
My truest words
Uncertain dust

One sunday morning
Beside his bed
'Neath shades of bars
I found him dead.

[In memory of William Weeks, Resident, Tennessee State Prison, 1946-1974]

~Les Blough, 1974

More poetry by Les Blough

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