Age Suicide Poems | Age Poems About Suicide

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Details | Salaam |

Yeh khaalipan

Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega

Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega

Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega

Copyright © shadab shaikh | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |

Can you feel me

Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.

The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.

"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart 
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.

The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.

Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
without you.

I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

From Then To Now

Hand in hand we walked 
together into Reception
Nothing could stop us and 
together we were three
James and I LARP-ed Doctor 
Who for fun
We talked and laughed for 
Because no stress was in our 
Anna and I smiled and laughed
And jumped on our bouncy 
With nothing dividing us.

Side by side we walked 
together into Year 6
Some stranger stopped them to 
talk and broken we were alone
James and I talked about 
Doctor Who for fun
And we talked and kissed for 
But misunderstanding broke us 
Anna and I still smiled and 
And joked about our bouncy 
But secondary school was going 
to divide us.

With no one there I walked 
alone into Year 7
And a stranger became my 
friend and together we were 
Violet and I both loved Doctor 
And James found Dominic
So James and I talked for mere 
And school started pulling us 
Anna and I still laughed and 
Still promising to be friends 
Never letting it divide us

Suffocating and drowning I 
walked into Year 9
Hating how I was and feeling 
Katie and Chloe were so pretty
And Violet so funny and all 
were better than me
James and I hardly talked or 
saw each other
But we still made the most of 
our friendship
As we were like family, stress 
couldn’t break us apart
Anna and I laughed but I did 
not smile genuinely
Because the bouncy castle was 
long gone
And our schools were beginning 
to divide us

Dead yet breathing I stand 
right now
And I hate who am I and every 
single detail
Fights broke us up and pulled 
us apart
So I can feel Katie, Violet and 
Falling further out my reach
James moved house to a place 
And blamed me for never 
talking to him
But really it was because of my 
ex who was a girl
It was for something beyond 
my control
Anna and I were still friends; 
only by a thread
As she did not know about me
And how school broke me apart

So this is me now; I’m all alone
No longer the smiling young girl 
of reception
The only person talking to me 
is me
And the voice in side my head
You see; they all left me and 
always will
So now the only call I answer
Is that of my blades
And the darkness
That is constantly
Pulling me

Copyright © Teenage Frustrations | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

In His Eyes

In his eyes I saw curiosity 
as he crawled towards his mother's warmth, bold
In his eyes I saw confusion
As she turned her back to him, cold

He was young and clueless
No idea of what his future held
As his mother mumbled on the phone
Gravelly voice, her cigarette smelled

In his eyes I saw rejection
On his knees begging for attention
In his eyes I saw apprehension 
Of oncoming sets of his mothers depression

He was taller now
but no strength in his bones
because no nutrients
can come from broken homes

In his eyes I saw fear
of being beat until he’s sleepless
In his eyes I saw shame
of broken bottles, spilling secrets

He wouldn’t bring home friends
cause his walls leaked with whispers
He couldn’t have a girlfriend
Without a place to kiss her

In his eyes I saw resentment
In his eyes I saw anger
In his eyes I saw myself
That’s when I knew he was in danger

I ran to his house
right across my fence
through the front door
tired of suspense

In his hands I saw a gun
In his eyes I saw nothing
And his mother holds her son
She thought he was bluffing

Copyright © Mckenzie Boyer | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

Let the kids grow

Let the kids grow
They're kids in the hood that wants to go the negative route.
They're    kids in the hood that think being all good and optimistic is a waste of time.
Please let the kids grow positively.
The responsibility lies in the parent's and the older siblings to the little younger ones.
I cry tearfully when kids die in school.
I die speechless when they end up like their family.
To let the kids grow please leave a better example.
Don't try.
Don't do the best.
Just do the right thing for the kids to grow. 
Every thug is always   lost when they fall dirty in the streets and can't provide shit to their kids.
What if there wasn't no school shooting? 
Will the kids be all   right? 
What if there wasn't  no shooting at the   playground? 
Will the kids be all right? 
What if there wasn't no Juvenile center or a Mental  Institution  ? 
Will the kids be all right? 
What if there wasn't no shooting at the movies or at the corners? 
The bullet  always have a name on it when it points back.
But will the kids be all right? 
Put down the guns for the kids.
Stand for the right thing for the kids.
Every fault of your kids danger lies in you.
Let the kids grow. 
Let them be something.
Let them be a man.
Let them be a woman.
Don't let the past lie in something bad for you to regret later on.
Because deep down in the last minute the past of the years can't be change just to let go and move forward.
The kids are more important than us.
They need love.
They need to be taught.
They don't need to be in danger.
They don't need to be killed.
What if there wasn't a Columbine high school shooting? 
Will some of the kids survived by not being wounded and killed.
What can I say the world isn't nice.
The world is   hypocritical.
The world is   judgmental.
The world is full of killers.
We survive and survive the struggle every day.
We are always surrounded by danger if we are not careful.
Let the kids grow.
Let the kids live.
Let the kids play.
Put down the guns.
Stand for right.
And please make a better expression for your kids.
This goes out to all the kids that feel not blessed enough not feeling the love and to say that don't be like your parent's your siblings who has a criminal record doing wrong be better than that rise up to the higher advance expectation and once you are up there then you can be anything that you want to be if you just put in work.
Let the kids grow please.

Copyright © Cmack Estevez | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

My Name Is Claudia

My name is Claudia,
I am 16.
My arms are swollen,
I like when they bleed.
I must be stupid.
I must be bad.
What else could make me hate me so bad?
I wish I were better.
I wish I weren't faulty.
Then maybe my life would still be lovely.
I’m all alone,
The bathroom is dark.
My folks aren't home.
I pull out the blade
And make nice clean strokes.
Until the bloods just flows and flows.
I don’t want to let go.
But I’m fading, slowly into a dark place.
But when my mum does come home,
She opens the door and screams in horror.
She finds me laying ice cold on the floor.
Her baby is dead, with blood on the floor.

Copyright © Claudia Gregory | Year Posted 2014

Details | Villanelle |



Comes a time when all is said and done.
And there and then just turn and walk away. 
When living is just no longer any fun.
And even if life was a race well run,
If it's at the end of a perfect day, why stay?
Comes a time when all is said and done.
As quality of life slips steadily away,
For every joyous ounce, a price to pay,
When living is just no longer any fun,
First pause and wallow in good memories.
Then with a soft chuckle, smile, and boldly say:
“Comes a time when all is said and done!”
Eventually, for all of us, it will come.
Despite desire the body will no longer Play;
When living is just no longer any fun.
Before dignity impairment is begun,
Will I face the inevitable? I may!
Comes a time when all is said and done,
When living is just no longer any fun!

Copyright © Keith Beavon | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


How queer the color of viscera
squarely foreign in my breast
To be the butcher and grim and goddess
All in one
Leaves identity succinct
Or identifies succinctness
If it has been
Then so it was always before

Therein is 'Peace'
Reposed and eyes rolling
Great, vacant saucers on vertiginous axis
She is quite the swollen beast
And on all fronts, she is terrible
If only you'll watch you may notice her growth
A malignant sort
An unwelcome appendage
I'd dash it out but I've already gone
Too pale and dogged in life to succumb
I curse her tenacity

She has a sister, I think
Or maybe a child
A child who lives down deep in my chest
A child who shrieks and tears down the walls
Perhaps she dislikes their pattern

Copyright © Chelsea Westerfield | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |

Man on Ledge

A girl in a red hat, walking home from campus, looks up and sees an elderly man stepping out on the window edge of an aging apartment building. She considers the distance from the ledge to the ground and determines that the fall will surely kill him. She is busy memorizing the look of the man, slightly too tight clothes, patchy grey hair; a man notices her gaze upward.

	He follows her eye-line, and upon seeing the old man he yelps, “don’t jump!” He dials emergency and explains the situation to an uninterested operator. A small crowd has gathered during his conversation, waiting for the man to make his decision. The girl wonders how old the man actually is, he can’t have much time left anyways.

	A middle-aged woman joins the anxious crowd; she pats down her frizzy red hair while thinking of how great a story this will be to tell her husband. Tonight he will listen intently to her for the first time in months. “Do it man!” yells a teenage boy, approving of his show of rebellion against society. Quickly after, an old lady with crooked fingers thumps him on the head.

	The old man sees the approaching brigade of cop cars. “I don’t have much time left anyways,” the man justifies his decision, and turns around ducking back into the building he draws the scarlet curtains, leaving a crack for sunlight to lay upon the dusty floor. A collective sigh of disappointment rises from the crowd and into his window. Its fine, what is one more upset in a life full of mistakes? The girl is the first to walk away; she remembers she has to pick up milk.

Copyright © Courtney Thorstein | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |

Only Choice

To the back or to the front

On my forehead or under my chin

To my temple

Out of my mouth, 

Or in.

Copyright © billy bier | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Heartache On 4th Street

  How can I live my life
  Always standing in front of a knife
  So I'll get on the night train
  And I'll go to Spain
  I'll leave this kingdom, this life, and this shame
  So there won't be any more pain
  And so there won't be any one to blame.

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


A luminescent streak across the night sky.
Adrift, my youth has left me.

Copyright © Adam Lefaivre | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |



some nights are mundane.
some nights are interesting.
some nights are laughter.
some nights are tears.
some nights are full of love.
some nights are full of loathing.
some nights are sex.
some nights are love making.
some nights are insecurity.
some nights are paranoia.
some nights are security.
some nights are hysterics.
some nights are a team.
some nights are standing alone.
some nights are father.
some nights are mother.
some nights are 32 going on 83.
some nights are 22 going on 13.
some nights are trying.
some nights are giving up.
some nights are suicide.
some nights are rebirths.
some nights are concrete. 
some nights are a blur.
some nights 
I wonder how I got here.

By: Chicano Eddie

Copyright © CHICANO EDDIE | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

My Aniexty

Please take it away 
I don't wan't it
My anxiety is getting worse.
I'm losing control.
I feel like dying suicidal .
I'm freaking out.
I can't calm down.
Someone please help me.
I hear noisy rackets.
I hear and witness dead people.
I see red blood on the floors.
I think I'm going to die in 7 days or more.
Am I'm dumb ?
Am I'm stupid ?
Why I can't be in love ?
Am I'm ill ?
Will I die anxiously in my resting sleep ?
Will death take me out ?
Pills don't help.
I wan't to be normal.
No retardation.
Just Normal.
My heart pounds and paces up faster and faster when I'm nervous.
It's killing me.
I'm suffocating.
My mind is ill .
My eyes are nearly blind when I'm squinting .
My arms and hands are shaking.
I can't be still.
Help me ?
Take away my anxiety 
It's hurting me
Please !
What am I'm going through ?
What am I'm going through ?
Is it my worried some ?
Is it giving an attention ?
Will people help me ?
or they won't ?
My answer is Please take away my anxiety .

Copyright © Cmack Estevez | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Saved by the Dinner Bell

 Saved by the (Dinner) Bell

So there’s the old woman lying in bed

with a Bible in hand and a gun to her head

She can’t see the point in waiting to die.

and is eagerly plotting her final good-bye.

But aromas of dinner are filling the room

with their mystical way of dispelling the gloom.

So she thinks she will wait until after the meal

(And admit it or not, that is how we all  feel.)

That life is much brighter and problems are solved

that life is worth living, when food is involved!

Copyright © Kathy Lundy Derengowski | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Tick Tick Tick

Tick Tick Tick
Time keeps turning 
and my heart keeps 
the hot steamy red blood 
rushes through my veins
my mind continues to
stock and store data 
like busy honey bees
and I push onward 
Tick Tick Tick 
time keeps turning 
my heart stops pounding
the hot steamy blood 
lies cold and still
all the busy bees have died
my mind no longer collects data 
I am stuck in cement 
the world becomes empty 
my universe stops rotating
Tick Tick Tick 
Time Keeps Spinning 

Copyright © julie zepeda | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


When I was younger, I would constantly proofread my suicide letter. 
God forbid the last thing I be remembered by be an incorrectly used comma. 
These days, I write poetry that merely dance around the subject. 
It's worrisome to others, but I personally prefer this art to perfecting a last goodbye.

Copyright © Hailey Coraggioso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


That moment when
You find your boyhood heroes
Were not heroes
But just more drunks
Who'd talk your ear off in a bar
Before going outside
To make for themselves
A bed beneath the ground.


For - Jack Kerouac

Copyright © Dean Marais | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |


I watched my feet
as I paced down
the street.

The concrete beneath me-
sharp and cutting,
like a glass-trimmed city,
filled with
agony and sin.

With every step
I bled more and more,
but on this road
I bled alone.

Copyright © Thum Chiean Tien | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

After the Fall

How could I?
Why should I?
Or better yet
Why shouldn't I?
Who are you 
To tell me I shouldn't
To yourself again John
Do yourself 
Some good and die
Know that I couldn't die
Even if I wanted to 
Because I've wanted to
Attempted to
Failed, then
Woken up 
More tempted to
And that was just this morning
Just imagine if it isn't death
What it is I'm meant to do

Copyright © John Mayo | Year Posted 2016