How many people nearly reach the rope,
Lonely in lodgings? How many almost try
To reach the stage that is beyond all hope?
Not many, but enough of them will die -
Students perhaps and others who demand
That we should look into their tragedy.
Imagine bed and breakast, gas-stoves and
Long hours when no one comes at all to speak.
Death must at such times seem most close at hand.
Some try to make a gaeity to break
The ugly wall-papers, the furniture;
But still they lie long hours in bed awake,
Thinking of love perhaps, some overture
To prove that their existence is no fake.