Reminiscing about my time at University while thinking about new horizons. These two different landscapes were both captured while studying for my degree at the University of St Andrews.
I wandered lonely as a wasp, who cannot find her feet
For every time she tries to land upon a tasty treat,
Waving hands and tempers flared, thwart her simple plan;
She only wants to settle down and feast upon some jam.
I really wish people could stop
Popping their own clogs
Or trying to pop their own clogs
By jumping from things or under things or into the sea
Or by other means
Things must feel terribly bad
Far and away beyond sad
With really no fun left to have
To End yourself quietly but violently; then finally
Third suicide in a year
I should put in a line about tears
For the sake of a rhyme?
No, the tears are not mine
They are shed by those closest, most dear