I knock on the door
And guess who answers? –
No one.
Not a single soul.
But the pain is far too great –
And the choice is mine, right?
To make that cut, or not.
The choice is mine,
To take that drink,
Or not.
The choice is mine,
To swallow that pill,
Or not.
The choice is mine, right?
To die?
Or not?
Surely, I cannot think;
Hate fills my brain
Where thought should reside.
Surely, I cannot eat;
Hate fills my stomach
Where food should fill.
Surely, I cannot love;
Hate fills my heart
Where butterflies should flutter.
Surely, I cannot live;
Hate fills my being
Where life should be booming.
I knock on the door
And guess who answers? –
Hope.
And it’s a damn good thing.
- Author: Nicholas Adair (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: June 23rd, 2016 21:27
- Comment from author about the poem: I had a friend that fought with suicidal thoughts, and even self-harm. I wrote this poem for her.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 617
Comments1
Amazing!
Thank you so much! 🙂
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