Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe I'm wrong for it all-
Walking.
Speaking.
Existing.
I wish that I were unborn, soul and all.
Maybe life would be a little easier for
my loved ones...
less stressful.
One less mouth to feed.
One less person to swallow difficulty,
and one less dying dignity.
_____________________
Just a human;
born into ongoing problems.
born into an everyday frown
that I constantly try to shake.
I try and shake myself from the madness.
I try to talk with God.
I try to do the golden good,
but every being lacks perfection.
Yes, I know I'm a hard mouth to listen to.
Maybe if I weren't around,
there would be one less (self) battle.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
