Every Day Suicide

7 Comments

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  • Sadness

    Every Day Suicide
    Endless thoughts are crashing through my mind.
    My heart is wandering endlessly and blind.
    I can't stop the feelings of hurt, and depression.
    Replacing them with so much anger and agression.
    Stumbling through the days on edge.
    Creeping closer and closer to the ledge.
    Ready to jump there's no where to go.
    Killing myself daily....
    With nothing to show!

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    warsaw commented on Every Day Suicide

    08-22-2009

    It's just a little freightening that I relate so closely to this piece of work it reminds me if when the love of my life suddenly died ( my husband) but I have another wonderful husband but I'll never forget the feeling of the walking dead person i was at one time in my life and how I longed to die but couldn't I[m so glad that I didn't ! smile sincerely WARSAW
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    ArizonaPlay commented on Every Day Suicide

    08-04-2009

    emotions are bizzare and hard to even try n tame to me it seems it has taken a long hard road to get to where you are and i admire you for that I haven't quite gotten to that end yet but i am a work in progress again thank you
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    Crush commented on Every Day Suicide

    06-15-2009

    Isn't it easy to put a face and words to sadness ? Mostly because sadness is such a strong feeling as is love. I feel your poem ....thank u.
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    Understanding commented on Every Day Suicide

    02-24-2009

    i feel like this every each day of my life, nice work
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    MilleniumMan commented on Every Day Suicide

    02-14-2009

    My mind races endlessly to noplace as there is noplace really to go. As the mind is infinite we choose what we choose to see and fear, all things close and all things dear. We are what we love not what loves us...peace, its good to die each day knowing that is is always our last day. "It is" the only day we live.
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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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