Suicide: A Poem

 

A glance upon yon window pane

A story is told by the streaking rain

It is one of sorrow and of pain

And a tear from my eye I can’t restrain

The flow of my thoughts I can’t refrain

From the playing of this deadly game

 

I sit alone sinking into my chair

To face this world without you, I cannot bare

Together you and I made a perfect pair

But alone in this world I wonder how I would fare

Happiness to reach again I wouldn’t dare

Because life my friends just isn’t fair

 

Upon the table the tools do sit

For lately I feel a need to quit

A knife sharp enough to make the slit

This way I’m afraid is a slow exit

The cut this makes is hard to knit

Too messy and it wouldn’t fit.

 

You my one true love was the fairest maiden

From my arms so violently taken

And to the core my soul was shaken

Slammed by steel and filled with lead my heart is laden

Once a humbled servant now I stand forsaken

Unlike Poe I have no Raven.

 

Take my life, to heaven I won’t go

But this could end my broken hearted woe

What comes next I’ll never know

As the thunder in the sky my feelings show

The sky blackened, pierced by lightening makes it glow

Soon I shall be knocking on heaven’s door.

 

If I’m to lay my life to waste

The act must come with haste

And I must act without chaste

A life without you cannot be faced

My pulse quickens, my heart raced

Interwoven are our souls like fingers interlaced

 

The phone rings with a deafening sound

I spring from my chair, across the room I’m bound

My eyes are swollen and round

I pick up the phone from a newspaper mound

The voice on the other end I found

And the phone drops to the ground

 

“Don’t do it” comes the plea

“For an eternity without you I cannot see.”

Out of the house I quickly flee

In the grass of the yard I fall to my knee

Twas the voice of my love in the phone with need

Back in the house I put away the tools of death with glee.

 

She’s saved my life once, she’s saved it twice

She shall not have to save it thrice

I’ll continue on with this mournful life

Plainly this will have to suffice

Like a mask happiness will be my disguise

Old in my bed, I’ll be buried with these lies.

 In no way, shape, or form is this poem reflective of any current situations.  If you were worried I appreciate that but there is no need for worry.  I watched the movie "What Dreams May Come" and was inspired to write this.  If you have not watched this movie, watch it.  It is a great movie and will move you in one way or another.

Copyright 2009 by Wesley Cox