I woke at dawn and knew at once
I'd have the perfect day.
To start, I rode my bike to town
In warm first light of May.
I stopped first at the petrol stand
And filled a can of fuel,
And while it filled I called my boss
And said I thought him cruel.
I told him how each day at work
I felt like I would die.
When at its end I still had breath
I almost had to try
To still the urge to cut my wrist
And let the blood flow free.
My three weeks' notice given then
"You're not the boss of me."
I cut the line and rode back home
And took the gas inside.
When late that night the smoke had cleared,
They thought that I had died.
I didn't hear for many weeks
For I had pedaled far.
I knew not if the field I walked
Was of earth, moon, or star.
A brilliant storm of warming flakes
Came as the winter's snow.
The summer's rain soon followed that
With droplet's shining glow.
Each night I lay in open field
And gaze on studded sky,
And wonder what had ever caused
Me all those years to try.
God bless the day I burnt each bridge
Left ev'rything behind.
I left to worlds of clearer views
From worldlets of the blind.