175- Suicidal Squirrel

Poem number 175
Suicidal Squirrel
Oh squirrel, with your fluffy tail
How still we see thee lie
Just waiting there for British Rail
Because you want to die
No tree could heal your tortured mind
Despite autumnal hues
Oblivion of the metal kind’s
The treatment that you choose
Just waiting in a heightened state
Just waiting for a train
To seal your fate, decapitate
And take away your pain.