I cut my wrist a couple of times
Funny coz it seems too easy
I'm not afraid not even once
No sweat and no loud beating
All i can feel is the drop of blood
Leaking out of my wrist.
Am I weak for ending the pain?
Or I'm just too strong to end this life
I'm not sure which is which
But I'm certain everyone will talk
Everyone will judge
Everyone will create a story
Make a novel
A poem
A gossip
Just to make my life even miserable
Guess I'm still a joke
A comedy inside this made up papers
A comedy not a tragedy
Because in this world
I'm just no one.
YOU ARE READING
Garden for Funeral
HumorA free verse poem. Thoughts that occupy the heart, mind, and soul. A collective experience of the mind written in words. One can relate and one can not.
