Poem Hunter
JH (January 4,1931 / a citizen of the world)


'in memorium Peter Shoobridge and his daughters'

Gentle poet what drove you to this extreme?
Something from your private living hell?
Severing the hand that took your daughters lives,
you placed a rifle to your head.
There was no audience when the shot rang out,
and the curtain fell on the silence of the dead.

Explanation: Peter Shoobridge a writer-poet, slit
the throats of his four daughters, chopped off his
hand with an axe, then blew his brains out.

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Comments (2)

There is depression(myself) and madness...and god help those who suffer it. It has to be more than mere despair, an almost unthinkable re-wiring of the circuits that could lead to such tragedy from someone who I assume was not evil...good write...Coach
Compassion underpins this poignant poem about one whose personal demons drove him to commit a terrifying act. Your lack of judgment is admirable and your poem is not without warmth. love, Allie xxxx