Why would you do this to me?
How twisted must you be?
Like fur, you shed your despair,
there is only so much we can bear.
Anguish is a virus,
seeping into our souls,
visible only through the iris.
You were one of the few
and the only one I knew.
Depression not ended by ending your life,
but split into pieces and spread your strife.
Look what you did,
look what you've done.
All this pain,
really think you've won?
You promised me you'd get help,
how do think I felt?
You couldn't do anything,
except watch your life ending.
Anywhere, I'd follow,
this promise is not hollow.
You're gone,
from this life,
I must move on.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a Suicidal Memory
PoesieI took all of my poems and compiled them into one big thing. Comments and constructive criticism are/is much appreciated. I will add to this as I write more, therefore there will be no set time for when I will update. Just read, enjoy, and support m...