Suicide

By Overactive Insomniac

Suicide
How cliché’
Don’t you know
It’s so passé

I’d rather stay
Right here with you
And teach you just a thing or two

You think, what a bitch
And you know you can be
But only because
He can never see me

How I cry late at night
Hide my face from his sight
When bruises glare in early morn’s light

But funnier still
Is watching him squirm
As you talk to him, quietly
Knowing he’ll never learn

I’m sure you’ll agree
There’s a lesson to learn
To get away now
Before you soul feels the burn

Take head of these words
Don’t think light of the deed
For the knife or the pills
Will one day, Satan feed

Glutton or greed
Envy or pride
Lust turns to anger
A sloth will he ride

Purgatory shall know you
And possibly hell
For you must remain there
And think for a spell

Why did I do this?
Why did I die?
Was he really worth it?
And it ends with a sigh

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
© 2006 Overactive Insomniac
Published on Wednesday, October 25, 2006.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "Suicide"

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  • beautifulfallenangel On Wednesday, November 1, 2006, beautifulfallenangel (63)By person wrote:

    :):0 awesome write

  • A former member wrote: a little questionable about the fate of suiciders. But I loved it anyway. Great Write!!

  • Aunty Depressant On Wednesday, October 25, 2006, Aunty Depressant (434)By person wrote:

    Hmmmm...don't think anyone is worth it. But some will invalidate you to death, or torture so cunningly, death may look like an invitation. I just hold on to hopes of sweet irony!--sometimes you can't run.

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