The final call

A poem about a man making his final decision.

The Final Call

By Shawn P Cassidy

What makes a man put lead in his head?

What sorrow so heavy he wishes he were dead?

To leave behind his family, his memories, his home,

and walk with the shadows, forever alone.

He’s been fighting for breath since the day he was born,

scratching through life while his spirit was torn.

How many times can a man start anew

when every old demon keeps breaking through?

His past is a graveyard he’s forced to revisit,

the memories are sharp, and each one so vivid.

He fears the future, the weight of the unknown,

convinced he’s abandoned, forgotten, alone.

The reaper has followed him, step after step,

a silent reminder of promises kept.

He lingers in corners where broken men fall,

waiting for the moment

they answer his call.

The world keeps spinning while he stands still,

a soul going numb against life’s final chill.

His hope has withered, his strength has stalled,

and the darkness grows louder

when it makes its final call.

He lifts the gun with a trembling hand,

a man out of time in a world he can’t stand.

And in that last second, he finally sees''

the reaper was never the enemy.

He was the witness

to a life unraveling thread by thread,

the quiet collector

of the tears he shed.

And so, with a whisper too faint to recall,

he closes his eyes

and makes

his final call.

© 2026 Shawn P. Cassidy. All rights reserved