LAST CIGARETTE

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It was yesterday, it was by night,
The poet was found dead alright,
No one appeared, no one cried,
The police said «Suicide»,
Just a woman, perhaps his lover,
- There was blood all over -,
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He didn't make noise at night,
Strange people these guys who write,
He took his coffee over there
But the owner he can swear
The man seemed normal the day before,
Reading his paper next to the door,
Smoking a cigarette, filling the air.

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No one appeared, no one cried,
The police said «suicide».