Suicide Theory
What is it that I am really scared of,
If it isn't even the Grim Reaper,
It seems with his cloak I've fallen in love,
A shadow of man who is a keeper.
I could care less now about being gay,
Which is a reason I once swallowed pills,
In excess to die on a prior day,
When the words of others once stole my will.
Now without much to fear I ask for death.
I ask him for reason to be alive,
For want to maintain my exhaling breath,
To inhale what life can offer to strive.
Until I find worth in meaninglessness,
I fear that I will wish for lifelessness.
Copyright © B. Joseph Fitzsimons | Year Posted 2017
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