Long Attempted suicide Poems
Long Attempted suicide Poems. Below are the most popular long Attempted suicide by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Attempted suicide poems by poem length and keyword.
Pain Of The Night
There is a short story of Hemingway’s
Called “A Clean Well-Lighted Place”.
An old widower in a small Spanish town
Nightly frequents a café until it closes down.
Behind his back, some of the waiters deride
Him, because the widower had attempted suicide.
One married waiter complained repeatedly,
That because of him they couldn’t ever close early.
However one older waiter had more sympathy,
Because like the old man, he had no family.
The old waiter understood that pain in the night,
Could be held back in a place that’s clean and bright.
I remember when I was single and free to roam,
And later as a soldier deployed far from home,
That old message of Ernest Hemingway’s
About needing a clean well-lighted place.
Without love and family, life seems just sleep and work.
Solitude is most oppressive sitting in the dark.
Our connection to others helps keep us alive;
Gives us meaning and a reason to survive.
So if you have nobody, and feel the pain of the night,
Surround yourself in a place that’s clean and bright.
Waiting in line,
Before the ATM of closed banks for 60 Euros to withdraw under the scourging sun
Old and invalid people are submitted to this daily torture, constantly moaning, for Our country’s suffering and for our own devastation,
While twenty-seven percent the unemployment has climbed
Forty percent the salaries and pensions went down and twenty percent the taxes up
Rendering hundreds of thousands of families poor with no money to feed themselves And their children
When
Close to one hundred thousand of our countrymen have attempted suicide of whom Ten thousand, unfortunately, have succeeded in ending their lives only in five years Because of the ruinous austerity measures taken to pay Greece's lenders
Parthenon, is mourning Democracy's assassination in the place of its birth
By the mighty creditors that suck the blood out of our veins
The Greek government in agony has turn to our allies for help to restore our Economy and thus to prevent the catastrophe that is approaching,
But the creditors, most of them anyway, with Germany leading the way,
To obliterate Greece wish with their unbearable and inhuman terms they have set
As though were our enemies and not our partners, because
Humanity has been lost in their hearts and only for them the profit counts
And I, one of the suffering Greeks, that shares the same lot as any,
In anxiety, a few words try to arrange for the tragedy of Greece to illustrate as a New Euripides or Sophocles but to no avail,
So I am waiting in line under the scourging sun, hoping my turn to come,
The sixty Euros, if am lucky, to get into my hands before the AMT is empty!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
15 JULY 2015
the daughter of a certain (blank) attempted suicide today
(blank) is now frozen with fear and angry with herself
i told (blank) that it is nowhere near her fault
(blank) tells me that (blank) wants to be alone right now
i give (blank) space and reflect upon my life
my meaning and my purpose suddenly question my every intent
i want to run away from the truths that are revealed in the spotlight
however i know that the diamond stone of it all will never be moved
i cuss myself out for complaints and my selfishness
an immediate appreciation begins the slow process of changing me
all of a sudden (blank)'s arms wrap around my waist from behind
i turn around to hug (blank) and remain that way until....
If a job is affecting your health and wellbeing, maybe it’s time to choose a new career.
Quote by poet.
Paul Mann was a stockbroker who worked in the city
Worked long hours to provide for Sue and his family
He'd often wake up early, sometimes full of dread
And he would often worry about what lay up ahead.
He would leave his house very early to catch the first train
To get to his office in the capital city of Augusta in Maine
He'd get a Starbucks and was always first through the door
His world was stocks and shares; he needed nothing more.
But his work obsession was slowly taking over his life
His job came first he'd ignore his family and his wife
He could never sit still and he was always on the go
But things were coming to a head and ready to blow.
One day he got off the train and he just lay across the track
Some people saw him and thought he'd had a heart attack
He was mumbling and with glazed eyes was in a bad way
Someone called an ambulance and they took him away.
At the hospital he was incoherent and at the same time elated
A psychiatrist was summoned and Paul was heavily sedated
His wife arrived and a doctor told her he'd attempted suicide
She couldn't believe what he'd said and broke down and cried.
He was later transferred to St Joseph's a secure hospital
And for about five weeks just sat there totally noncommittal
St Joseph's was an old manor house set in acres of woodland
There was a lake and flower beds that looked fine and grand.
It was about a week later that Paul started to communicate
Was starting to eat normally again and was putting on weight
He realised that his stressful job had sent him over the edge
And when his Sue called to see him, he made her a pledge.
He said," I'm so sorry for what I did, I was in a dark hole
I let things at work get the better of me and it took its toll
The nurses and doctors are great with their intense therapy
They’re helping me rediscover inner peace and tranquility”.
“I’m not going back to my job I’ll find something less stressful
I want to spend more time with you, John, Abby, and Hazel
I’ll keep the weekends free and we’ll spend time as a family
And I hope that dark episode in my life will fade from memory”
Perfection was never meant for her to own
It was a desire she couldn't leave alone
Not for ignorance, but for the idea of hope
It was her favourite kind of trope
It was a life that made her want to elope
That fantasy was her only way to cope
She wasn't a naive dreamer, that was a life she couldn't afford
She was realistic, she knew there was no reward
That for her reality could not be ignored
She learned that lesson from young
She needed an escape, a distraction
One that didn't involve a mirror and her reflection
One where life entrusted her with acceptance
One where she could hide from her blackness
I wish she knew it was never her fault, just the world's reaction
Maybe then her biggest enemy wouldn't have been her complexion
Her differences were minor, but the world made them bigger
Her skin, to them, a trigger
To shoot the word ''
A word that became a killer
She silenced herself to survive -
A world that wouldn't care if she died
A world that would laugh if she cried
A world that became a coward to her attempted suicide
Does the girl get a happy ending
Do they exist for girls like her
Will she ever find happiness
Or is that just a fantasy
She wishes she knew
She wishes she'd have a clue
The truth
Is for her everytime good happens, life steals it away
Everytime bad happens life let's it stay
She wonders if it is a sign
That maybe it's her time
She's realistic enough
To know the lies of happily ever after
But deep, deep down
She wishes life, for her, would be different
She is not healed
She is not broken
But she is both wound and scar
And that makes her human
Don't assume I write with an aim or end in sight, my ambition isn't with the pen the paper or the mic, I'm not reaching to be famous or for riches or for hype, writing down my thoughts is me unloading what's inside after many years of silence and confusion of my life which I now know came from breakdowns in an isolated strife that dragged on overwhelmingly to attempted suicide, I had many people but not one of them on side, nobody to talk to no one seeing through my eyes stunned by the lack of support as the battle reached it's height which i now know went unnoticed because it was thought a lie, happening so fast i lost my thought process and lived mentally blind, I was snowballed in the moments losing track and in decline, with no one taking notice of myself as the person I was died, numb and living clueless hoping theories could answer why, people told me my problems convinced that they were right but none of them came close to truth which I still hadn't realised, those thoughts still remained unprocessed and years had now gone by, it was worthlessness in autopilot taking each day at a time, I knew people had done me wrong but couldn't place their crime, the theories they came up with shone a light inside their mind, I never once blamed anyone and accepted it as mine, but my subconscious was hinting at what people were truly like, leading me to a place were their company was denied,
with no one influencing me I slowed cleared my mind, the thought process flickered on again over a decade behind, repressed memories present the answers and facts began to shine, i could see true colours as the chapter horrified, I never spoke about it because they told me not to lie, which lead to a suffered silence until i broke down and lost the light, no future or past in mind stuck living but not alive, these people were my closest and now have no place in my life, they left me isolated where I stayed until today when I have only I, yet theorizing never stopped and their mentality doesn't lie, they haven't ever changed and i see through their whole disguise, they want to better everyone and help nobody rise, they benefitted as I survived unsure wanting to die, a revelation helping me come back to life, it took it's time as it had too much pain it had to hide, but time and distance was the key and I write to stay alive
In my deepest sleep
I toss, I turn
Warriors
In this awkward time scale
I rest, I burn
A tiresome suicide
On my face
Against my pillow I lay
Breathe I cannot
Feel, no, I cannot
Seems I’m in a fixed spot
My graven lay
If you could see
The misery upon my face
It’s getting hot
And I cannot breathe
My attempted suicide
My souls exempt
Yet threatening to leave
Some one, anyone
Please turn me over
For I cannot breathe
It’s over, goodbye
No wait, I can feel my flesh
For I have been given life once more
Now awaken my eyes
Rise from this pillow of death
And have once more
A reviving breath
I called out to Death
And Death answered me
I cried out for his embrace
And he comforted me
I poured my heart out to Death
And he invited me to dine with him
For the two months I visited Death
I was at peace
I danced with Death and I felt free
Oh how i wished to dance with Death for all eternity!
To be one with him and to live with him
But alas, 'twas not to be
For the two months I was Death's guest
I never once thought of the ones i left distressed
Death had given me an escape from the mess
But looking back now 'twas not for the best
Through my waltz with Death
I caused more harm and no good
Never once looking back
Regret, a foreign taste upon my tongue
Now, Death's cold kiss is engraved on my neck
A reminder that dancing only leaves you with sore feet and a sore neck
A mark I will carry
Till the end of my days
My health, in shambles
My relationships, beyond repair
My self-esteem, in the gutters
And still all I can think of is 'my'
I have caused more harm than good
And learnt that dancing is best left for those called to dance
For I cried out to Death
And Death answered me
I've come so far
Grasping nothing more that memories of a fading star
In Search of a sanctuary other than a bar
A place where I can lay my head
Somewhere to I can rest my deepest thoughts
And shelter the molecules we shed
The troubles in this life of mine
The lover in this wife of time
Another christmas spent alone
Attempted suicide
But I'll never get to wake to a white dawn
Two stretches from a great moan
A few timely expressions from going home
Misery substituted for family time and childhood smiles
My only passion to carry on
How can I wipe your tears when no body loves me
So selfish, yet I'm only human
And it seems everyone looks above me
If I could look back it would all be past tense
Instead I sit here and swallow this glass of nonsense
I could only dream of egg nogg
Pushing through snow that covers my legs in the fog
Christopher Kringle
Spreading that warm feeling that tingles
That precious tune from bells that consistently jingle
Maybe it's all make believe
And maybe the cold winter nights won't take my sleeves
Nobody knows what goes on behind this hotel door
‘Mr Smith’ isn’t with his wife of that I’m pretty sure!
He’s with his mistress Sue, they are having an affair
But he is a cheating love rat and he doesn’t really care
A barrage of fists is flying at number twenty-two
Sally covers her bruises, what else can she do
Her man is a bully and hits where nobody can see
She’s got no one to turn too otherwise she would flee
Harry is all alone since his dear wife has died
He’s desperately lonely but filled with such pride
His family only live on the other side of the city
But are so busy with their lives, isn’t that a pity
Post builds up in his letter box, there’s milk left at his door
Neighbours think they’ve seen him but they aren’t really sure
The police arrive; break down his door and Harry’s lying dead
He’d fallen down the stairs; dried blood lay round his head
Peter is an alcoholic and he suffers from depression
He has bouts of violence, he’s known for his aggression
Since his wife walked out on him he’s attempted suicide
His life has gone downhill since he lost his lovely bride
Little Sally wants to hide when she sees Phil the baby sitter
He makes her do ‘things’ with him, if she won’t he says he’ll hit her
She’s subjected to sexual abuse that no child should endure
But her parent’s are oblivious when they walk out that door
Nobody really knows what goes on behind closed doors
I wonder would you divulge what happens behind yours?
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