Still There

He choked amid that rich, dark ash
That smelled so fine from afar
He shed tears of ink and cried for help
While I watched with divided a heart.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ was his new, desperate cry
As he sneakily made himself worse
So I tried and I tried to just stand by,
For a Limerick does not change his verse.

Pity, never were you stronger
Than you’ve made yourself this day
You’ve sustained this curved shape longer-
I can’t believe you found a way.

I told you, Pity, let me be, for
The Limerick wrote himself to doom
But Pity continued to move in me
And out decanted coerced assistance.

Bound to the Limerick I was
(For a brief nanosecond he’d shown me right)
And though I wanted to wash my hands
I was all the Limerick had in sight.

And so, I am ashamed to say,
I’m the one who turned away.
(I’ve since found
A world around
And the Limerick lost his life that day.)