SAMARITAN

In an old poky
terraced house

I lay myself down
on no-body's bed

Quietly
Apprehensive

One ear open
for the big black phone
that will clang

In deepest desolate dark

Heart pounding
To the voice

That oozes forth
from hell
at the other end

I hate phones
ringing

I hate the click
of another

Hanging up
Too soon

Never ever knowing
if I prevented
or assisted

Suicide