The mangled corpse stared at his three young kids and his pretty pregnant wife.

They didn't need this desperate situation; they'd already had their fill of strife.

He hadn't really been thinking when he started drinking that rainy night.

His mind rattled off a long list of regrets but it was too late to make things right.

He had always been too eager to blame bad politics and the terrible economy.

He never thought about his poor work performance or his horrible attitude.

He'd always had a special knack for being exceptionally rude, lewd and crude.

He had been hopelessly immature; he had never been willing to take any blame.

Never wanted anything negative or detrimental attached to his face or name.

He hadn't even told his beautiful young wife that he'd just lost his job.

He realized then that he was nothing more than a worthless slob.

He'd left behind a hellish mess; he'd been so stupid and blind.

He'd left so abruptly, forced to leave everything and everyone behind.

His heavy heart began to break; it was a dull, steady ache.

Then he wondered about the other ones

Were they as miserable as he was? Yes, no or maybe?!

He'd never hug or kiss his family again or see his new baby!

His family would probably lose their little home, the other car and the phone.

He could see thousands of newly departed ones yet he was hopelessly alone.

Learn more about this author, S.C. Kleinhans.
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