To the Stained Glass Sky

To the stained glass sky
whose panes break and fall about me.

To the bottle of whiskey
which intended oblivion for me.

To the neglected back garden
I shall never again attend to.

To the market research company
I built for myself, but now undo.

To the wife I had once
who up and left me quite sensibly.

To the blade before me
jagging into my fingers gently.

To the stained glass sky
whose panes break and fall about me.