Daisy Tyrrell Poet Bio

My Heart Is Dead

The night i changed is still so clear
I swallowed those tablets with no fear
It was to end, the crying cutting and blank stares

To end the pain of living in despair
To stop the questions that i do not know
The question whether I want to go

The answer is yes
So leave me be
The answer is yes
So let me be free

What’s the point I am useless
What’s the point I am hideous
What’s the point I am ever so numb
What’s the point, i can’t feel no more

My senses are vanished
My heart is dead
All my happiness has completely fled

I’m gone already, just let me go
It will be over before you know

Hear I hold the knife of terror
The one who will be sure I’m gone forever
The one who seen me through such dark days
The one who’s relieved all my pain

Goodbye x

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Duncan Chappell November 30, 2017 at 8:42 AM POWERFUL thank you for sharing kind regards

Douglas Brown November 28, 2017 at 12:38 PM Wow! Take alook at my short story --The Los Angeles River - similar theme. Best, Daisy Tyrrell April 16, 2018 at 5:54 AM it was beautiful thx for sharing , i went through all your writing and it was amazing x

Seren Roberts November 27, 2017 at 3:05 PM great write .....Seren

James Haley November 22, 2017 at 9:35 PM Did you ever feel out of place Were you the only one in the room Not religion sex origin or race Had to do with this gloom You say something no one heard With eye’s staring through your face You dare not utter a single word Did you ever feel out of place As if they want you to fail As if they want you to loose Such a feeling of utter pail Is this the place that you choose If you leave this situation No one would even know you were there But since you have no real temptation You use valor instead of flare Did you ever feel out of place No place for man to be And they call this the human race Move on there’s more to see

Edward Mccall November 19, 2017 at 4:41 PM Hi Daisy: you have such an incredible talent to convey your thoughts in to words. Please I hope you continue to bless us with your gift. Daisy Tyrrell April 16, 2018 at 5:55 AM thankyou so much xx

Laura Breidenthal November 10, 2017 at 8:18 PM Poetry has been my outlet for the longest time. There's something comforting about writing words on a page. To those that write we often are so so hard on ourselves.Like the saying goes, we are our worst enemies. Be proud of your work. There are those who will listen. You have a voice, and I am happy to see that you're using it. Fight on, beautiful poet! Always, Laura

Elizabeth Kinch November 8, 2017 at 8:56 AM Oh Daisy : ( Hugs for you. X

Silent One November 8, 2017 at 8:52 AM A very sad write, I hope you are ok and this is an old poem or something that does not apply to you anymore.. Kelli White November 26, 2017 at 12:27 PM Silent one message me please