Long Death suicide Poems
Long Death suicide Poems. Below are the most popular long Death suicide by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Death suicide poems by poem length and keyword.
In the hallway of legends and ghosts
I wander aimlessly in dream
Talking with the dead of Brookhaven
The rope burns are still fresh on Helen's neck
A sickly scarlet mark upon her throat
In this corridor, I pace, a key in hand; lost
Forever the sojourn of quietus in keeping
Before a door numbered two, I stand
Silence a silver web with the muted sobs of angels
It is not a key I hold when she at last comes upon me
It is only the dark tangent of lost souls and vipers
And a blind man staggering upon a battlefield as
Cannons roar and the blue turban leers
The rains come like Jacob Marley's ghost
Riding the coach forever
Paul was alright when we last met;
Various promises to each other,we had made.
The last time I heard from him,
He was pleading with me not to join his team.
What team? I knew not what he meant!
So,away from his request,my life; I bent.
Three days passed without hearing from Paul.
Do worriers like him secretly fall?
He had alot strangling him where I was not;
Was he kidnapped? Did he die in a homicide? I thought.
The next time I had about him,he had given up;
His wings of strength on which I sat while he flew around,he could no longer flap.
To the throne of death,he had bowed and given in,
Like he knew not how painful it would be for me; like drowning in sin.
Where I wasn't,Paul purchased poison.
He thought not about his family, for example Jason;
His only brother that got his support entirely from him.
We don't understand why he would watch his light grow dim,
While he closed his eyes never to open them again.
He forced the drink down his throat like he expected more gains!
He wriggled in pain like a caterpillar.
Helplessly,he breathed his last as it fell on him; his pillar!
Stiff like the corpse he was,froth surrounding his mouth,
He lay dead on the ground unable to feel the tickle of a louse.
Paul had the power to change whatever he was going through.
He could reverse his difficulties with all he had; this is absolutely true.
How I wish he had fought a little bit harder!
How I wish he had held on and climbed more up his ladder!
It was at that point that i understood what he meant by team;
Under no circumstances did he want me to give in!
We shall live to celebrate his life, for he had a beautiful soul.
Wherever he is,I know he will be by my side,holding my hand as I grow tall,
In fulfillment of our dream. Witnessing me grow tall.
Today I stand in front of the mirror
Naked with a big cheeky smile
Eyes pooping out of their sockets
Teeth big, white and beautiful
I dress up and put on a flowery suit
I stare at my obviously muscular build
Almost at the door when I remember one important fact
You're not fully dressed without a smile
I go out into the bright, shiny sun
A still breeze caresses my shiny skin
I dab my face with my white handkerchief
Complete with my plastered cheeky smile
I drive off on a long stretch of road
Listening to the softest, gentlest tone
I nod my head to a booming beat
All while I wear my brightest, cheekiest smile
I get to a hill at a lonely place
I walk slowly to the looming hill
I look at the height with a slight relief
As I wear my brightest, cheekiest smile
I step back a little with a deep breath
I looked around but there's no one to see
I wear my smile for one final time
And then I go up, up and away
sometimes i fantasize about
driving on the highway
going eighty
and swerving into oncoming traffic
will that make the hurting stop?
walking somewhere
alone in the dark
and getting cornered by a murderer
will that make the hurting stop?
being home alone
door bursts open
an intruder with a gun pointed right at me
aimed right at my head
will that make the hurting stop?
the medicine cabinet torn apart
four pill bottles scattered around me
all once full
now empty
will that make the hurting stop?
a blade in my hand, pressed to my wrist
finally brave enough
to go deeper than just the surface
will that make the hurting stop?
going to bed one night
head laid on my tear-stained pillow
and never waking up again
will that make the hurting stop?
will the hurting ever stop?
or am i destined to live like this forever?
i'm not even living anymore
i'm just surviving
barely surviving
against my own will
You were asking
earlier:
Floating In a pool
by misadventure.
Slowly drowning
in vomit, your own.
Chasing horses
in a seedy hotel room.
A busted heart
in a busted bathtub.
Hanging in a garage
beside your automobile
A twenty gauge
wrapped in your arms
One last Vodka shot,
to end the pain.
These are some ways
you can join the club.
There are many more;
you can be inventive.
May I ask your age?
Twenty-eight you say.
My apologies, sir;
you exceed our age limit.
the 27 club Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Date wrote: 11th September 2022
The Cold Embrace of Death
The hush transports him to another place,
where peace and joy are swallowed by regret.
The sea allures him to his own disgrace,
Akin to earworms feeble to forget
The crashing surf now softly breathes her name,
and speaks of pledges, secrets still untold.
The wind relays his sorrow and his shame,
as old bad dreams before his eyes unfold.
Again, she slowly lets her body fall,
to free her life off fiends that proved too grim.
Each small morose detail he can recall
as hungry waves below try to reach him.
The weeds peep through as tidal waves recede
persuading him to join her and concede.
Melancholy, like leeches, with no fuss, stings,
Worthlessness, like black ghost bats, in my heart, spreads wings;
Sadness, helplessness, hopelessness loom in a chain,
Like termites venturing amidst torrents of rain;
Like summer-flu drenches physical energy,
Psyche gets sucked off losing inner synergy...
I forget to eat and struggle to get deep sleep,
As though lying on venomous scorpion heap;
Involuntary movements in my hands and mind,
Indicating restlessness in the brain behind;
Feelings of death, suicide, and wanting to cry,
Settle in and sting like treacherous Tsetse fly...
Why do I feel as though fallen in nothingness?
Why does this well of void call me with willingness?
Why, like Shakespearean plays, do witches appear?
Why dead heads of murderers my skull smash and smear?
Why do graves and coffins like processions enter?
Why does the whole nature to be pure pain render?
To saints and angels fully folded hands I pray,
Like nuns and monks, hearty charity I display;
When will the sun of happiness show shiny sway?
When will this fog of pain in my heart fly away?
Will my world turn again a rhythmic Milky Way?
Will peace like very spouse forever come to stay?
17 September 2021
''M'' Contest, New Poems Only - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
What if you tried suicide
And by mistake you up and died
Would the demons laugh while God cried
If you were to take your life
If you think, things aren't running right for me
Do you need to step out that drastically
Wouldn't it be better if you could keep
From doing harm to the one you call me
Doesn't tomorrow bring another day
A chance to better the come what may
A chance to act a chance to say
There's more to life that I can make
Suicide is not a step that's light
It's the short end of the rope, the snake that bites
The loss of the string on the kite of life
The mistake you make you make too late to find
It's the cowardly way in which to say
I can't make it through another day
Come what will, come what may
You need to live this life before it's too late
Because what you find with suicide
It's also the ones you leave behind that die
Where the demons laugh and God cries
When you can't take anymore and you take your life
Season of death plays her melancholic tune,
tragedy portrayed through a chorus of birds.
In regret, I ponder why you left so soon,
still mourning the impact of your last words.
Demons hid some pieces of your jigsaw brain,
lost in your black abyss, troubles began to form.
Alcohol, drugs and abuse turned your life insane,
but your tongue was silent, battling the storm.
Sometimes I read the note you left behind,
saying you were sorry, but life was not kind.
If only I knew a way for time to rewind,
maybe I could have eased that troubled mind.
Guess you felt death would bring an end to the pain,
hope you found peace from a life you left in vane.
Silent One
27 October 2020
I lost a very special friend to suicide, on new years eve 1996.
It was not my only experience with suicide, but it was one that had a big impact on my life, because, I was the last person she spoke to.
Sadly, I did not get to her in time and she had already departed the world that troubled her so much. At the time, she was only 18.
For years, I struggled to come to terms with it, my coping mechanism was to blank it all out, suppress the emotions. But every new years eve, I would not do anything, it was my way of rebelling against it, I guess. I lived with regret. Sad thing was I never spoke to anyone about it.
I learned to deal with it through writing. My first poem about what happened was in 2015.
Some think suicide is selfish, but it is not. It is difficult for those left behind to deal with it, but we need to understand, people who leave the world in such a way, do not want to die, they want to end the pain.
Sometimes, no matter what we do or say, it may not help.
Always keep an eye out for family and friends, who you may think are feeling low and at times worthless. Many of us, at times, feel we do not belong.
Sometimes, the smallest act of reaching out could make a difference.
If you are feeling suicidal, there are helplines available in your country. Please call someone to talk to them. It could make a difference.
When we feel confused, oppressed, worthless, low, unloved, live a life without affection and understanding... Please remember there is always someone out there who loves and cares about you and will miss you so much if you are gone.
Sorry for the sad poem and thank you for reading.
I'm sorry that your love just couldn't meet
The expectations I laid at your feet;
I'm sorry that you climbed that hill so high.
I'm sorry that our love just had to die.
I'm sorry for the way I led you on
When I should have known I would be gone,
For all the love I wished to give to you
Could not be yours; no, we would never do.
I loved you from the start, but down you fell,
And though I would have followed you to hell,
I could only watch you trudge and drone.
Some walks, they say, you have to take alone.
I wished with all my might, the day I found
That you were just a body in the ground.
You didn't even care to say goodbye,
But left me here to mourn, so you could die.
I struggled once, like you, for deep within
I carry secret memories of sin.
You opened up the doors I thought were closed,
Only to leave them when you were deposed.
I'm not sorry for the choice I made,
Though truthfully I wish you would have stayed.
I'm sorry that the person I once thrilled
Eventually became the one I killed.