Disclaimer: Dark and stormy night scene: inside the parlor of large mansion
Detective Clue: Someone standing in this very room, right now is guilty. And I know who it is!
Me: All right I admit it! I don't own the Dead Poets Society! I never have and I never will!
Detective Clue: Ooookay. I was talking about the murder.
Me: Oh…um… Carry on then.
A.N.-This is a poem I wrote taking place during the movie around the time that Neil dies (I know like you couldn't figure that out on your own). Anyway I feel it still is not quite right, but I don't know much about poetry and I don't know anyone that does. So any and all constructive criticism is very, very greatly appreciated!
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Neil's Dead
In the deep dark of the night I am shaken
Awake before the dawn.
With tears down his face
Charlie whispers words that cannot be true
A cold truth that none else dares utter,
"Neil's Dead."
It cannot be true!
I won't let it be true!
Only a few hours ago I saw him
So full of joy, of life, of hope for a future
To think that the best friend I never had a right to have
Just gone. Impossible.
To think that he has left us forever,
By his own choice,
Not true!
"Neil's Dead."
That voice, Charlie's voice, those words, cruel words!
They chill my bones unlike any winter storm this earth has ever seen
Like nothing I've ever known
His body as lifeless, cold, and pale as snow
Our shared joys gone with that harsh fate at the cross roads of life
Why did he choose that path?
"Neil's Dead."
I can stand it no longer
I feel numb with the frost that has covered my heart
Where do I go now? What will happen?
What should I have done?
What could I have done?
Could I have done anything at all?
"Neil's Dead."
He chose to die because he wanted to live.
He chose to act because he wanted to be himself.
Oh sad life of hypocrisies!
Of riddles and darkness, but also of light.
I cry for loss and pain
I cry of grief for me and joy for Neil
He is free now of anyone's control
A spirit such as Neil's can never really be gone
He was always like spring shrouded in a winter blanket, but soon triumphant again.
If only he knew winter would end he might be standing here still.
I cry and run across an endless landscape of winter.
I cry and run across an endless landscape of Neil.