Suicide
When she reached home
with full of stress,
She sat at a corner expressionless
in a black dress.
Running to her room
with lot of pain.
Tears rolled down to her cheeks
like a drop of rain.
The clock struck at seven
She made plans to go to heaven
Wrote a suicide epistle for herself
Pasted it on her bookshelf.
Slowly- slowly she
took out her knife
Finally ending her life.
Copyright © Ishika Mishra | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment