Maybe, I should kill myself?
Surely then they'd understand.
Thoughts when all the wolrd is ‘gainst me.
No one there to hold my hand.
Surely, they'd be sorry.
When my body’s in the ground.
Over all the things they said…
Back when I was still around.
In the darkness ‘fore I wrote this.
Grabbed my camp knife, not my pen.
When I realised, I swapped it.
What does that say to you then?
I just hate when people hate me.
When my mother calls me bad.
There is truth in what she says.
And reflection to be had.
Maybe I am selfish.
Here planning my demise.
Wishing somehow it would hurt you.
For the times you made me cry.
But I like my early coffee,
And I know I like you too.
So, let’s make up in the morning.
Like I guess we always do.
-
Author:
Urgirl_martini (
Offline) - Published: October 3rd, 2026 06:21
- Comment from author about the poem: Just teenage moments really.
- Category: family
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Thoughtless
Offline)
Comments4
How emotions vary on the back of bubbling hormones. A lovely write that conveys well the roller coaster ride of youth.
I truly do hope it is an age thing, and I will grow of feeling such big emotions over the smallest of things. 😅
I hope it evens out too.
I gave it a like, for its truthfulness, even if it wasn't true?
Appreciate the support. 😊 There is truth in everything, but was certainly focused on a very specific moment of reality.
We need to test those ministering spirits!
Dangerous!
As self-destructive behaviours always are.
The nonchalant approach to the subject in a poetc rendering makes it all the more effective, so, too, quiet disturbing until your final stanza. One must always abide by the morning's forgiveness and of course, the first coffee of the day. The poem flows beautifully and rhymed to perfection. Well done indeed.
Kind regards,
Tony,
Thank you very much Tony. Appreciate your kind words.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.