Long Suicidal Poems

Long Suicidal Poems. Below are the most popular long Suicidal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Suicidal poems by poem length and keyword.


Infernall the Walls of Freedom

Bluest blues, blackened with yellow green
taken back for all I've seen
muddled minds mingled
living lonely
amid suicidal dreams

I have seen, oh I have seen
infernall insecurities scrambling
fearful of creation's doubt
enduringly drifting 
towards the brink of curiosity

undoable 
ropes unraveling
but only for these eyes
the hidden cries
for help

helpless, hopeless
kindness begs
breeds, breathes
untold 
tight held mystery

a forestry of freedom unbound
found
a conduit can't hide
in gentle breeze
side by side by side
with angels
guiding me
© Ts Poetry  Create an image from this poem.


Love Drug

The rain pelts down my window panes
Your face in my memory evokes emotional pain
and I wonder if you ever regret the things you do
make me cry
Or 
WORRY WHETHER OR NOT YOU’D OVERDOSE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND DIE
I HAD SO MANY COUNTLESS SLEEPLESS NIGHTS…….
You had me walking around like a shaky zombie, close to an an attack of anxieties.
You took my kindness
you took it like a selfish thief in the night
You stroked my hair and gave me promises of a relationship that would someday be right
But perfect was nothing further from it.
I gave you my virginity, my essence of innocence and
YOU MADE ME HURT
YOU MADE ME SICK
I'll never forget the time you slapped me across the face
The sting was numbed from your inebriated laughter
You tore me apart with your verbal wolverine clawed insults
Your tongue has left whip like scars on MY HEART
You threatened me with suicidal tendencies
To keep your addictive behaviour a secret
UNWILLING TO SEEK HELP
YOU POISONED YOURSELF WITH DRUGS MEANT TO HELP THOSE SUFFERING FROM ILLNESSES THAT ARE CANCEROUS
You chased away the love of my friends and my families
You punched a hole through your sister's door, so frustrated and blinded by
the drug's destructive withdrawals
You felt like your skeleton was ripping from your skin's molecules
You were monstrous.
Stole away my confidence, and shut down the sound of my voice
Luckily I found my way back to sanity
my addiction was loving you, when you were calamitous and noxious
© Laura Hew  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

The Scenic Route

February marks the date but we don't celebrate.
Relationship is real, daily struggle, money, temptations, and 
suicidal moments. 
We took the scenic route but have only seen one mountain.

10/11/16 
Yella 

Written by My Amazimg girlfriend; Danielle Zink. 

-Allowimg her to be a part of my poetic journey is enough probable cause to share wth her my Sweet last name. You may pronounce us Mr and Mrs Zink... (she has been my biggest fan for 3 years so she is (and has been) my poetic practice audience. And now she has even been not only using my words against me left and right, she has figured out how to write poetry... I do believe the replacement woman has been getting loose in the right field bullpen. I'm considering calling in the lefty as it has become obvious that she has come to know too much—about me and of the human mind. An obvious threat to any man currently married or divorced. That's not going to happen and I just made up some reader savvy nonsensense; or did I? I'm not telling. I love Danielle; that being said let's say the ups and downs of a "hypothetical" break up—as follows: Down Side: lose my family. Up side: with heartbreak comes more material for me to write more poetry! Hey! You must always look on the brightsides. Just in case she's still reading this; I loveyou honey! You are my world. Without you, I am lost in a ghetto trying to score and much much more. It's like a **** show. Peace in everyone, hang tough! 
                                                             Ir0NIc Zink

What a Wonderful Imitation of Love

Raindrops upon the asphalt
Stain my camera lens as it stares at the moon
I lack a jacket and the wind is strong
Would it be cool if I was ice all along?

Reading the twist of the story
Before you have context to know why it's there
I'm thinking I knew how this story would end
Yet subtly praying for worldlines to bend

Buried miles inside you
You're grasping the bedsheets while I'm holding flasks
Whispering words of love to me after
Though when I'm drunk, I'm a better actor

Frozen, dreaming of cold winds
And days when I hid myself from the sheer cold
Dreaming of moments when my love was pure
And realizing theater has lost its allure

I can't remember the last time
I've gazed upon you without wanting to die
Yet I can't run because you'll try to fall
And grasp my hand to pull me into the squall

Raindrops are soaking my camera
And your questions are making my phone sing aloud
Hypothermia doesn't sound half bad
God, I'm sounding so much like my dad

What a wonderful parody
Of the intimacy we've both craved since we were young
Battles and doubts and all sorts of great things
You're still the reason my heart wants to sing

Singing the songs of the wounded
Of pain and of self-harm, of suicidal dreams
I'm freezing to death on this track in the rain
I've never been happier than when I'm being slain
© Derek Chos  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Persevere

The older I get the more I grow
It’s apparent to me I do not know
There’s always something to learn 
Keep on moving as the world turns
Why are instincts in animals so strong
To thrive and survive and carry on

Yet in some humans who have despair
Suicidal ideation thoughts are there
No one is perfect and minds can be 
A source of pain a source of peace 
Coloring life’s lenses we silver see
Sifting cleanses setting souls free

Do not forget in your pact with death
You may transfer pain to someone else
You must be certain that you persevere
Despite cherry challenges fuchsia fears
Lift up your spirits with the Holy Ghost
Always near us when we need Him most
Form:


Suicidal Bomber

i and my killer
standing face to face
i can see the redness in his eyes
he would have not slept last night
i and my killer
we have never met before
we are complete stranger to each other
perhaps he not knew neither i
why he is going to kill me 
i have kids back home
he is in his teen should be alone
but now the time has finished 
we are ready to go in the tunnel of dark
we will be no longer i and he
we will be a news article hereafter
i have no fear
i have only worry
how to save my kids 
from becoming a next suicidal bomber
o my killer 
let it be the last victim
let the world lovely as it was before you
u need my blood its there
not for ugly thoughts of you
but for the promising new peaceful world
© Ijaz Ahmad  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

One Hundred Years

A hundred years have come and gone
 to what wonder and tragedies 
  have you belonged?

My father:
Born in the aftermath of a world at war
 danced to the flappings of the twenties roar,
a time when poverty and wealth wore torn in two
 when the future feared depression's loom;
just a young man filled with wide-eyed dreams in bloom
 where would steps move 
 in the prophetic ravings?
the Dust Bowl blackened clouds with farmers braving
 drowning anthems of a Star-Spangled banner still waving
 and the solo flight of history
 forever remains a mystery;
political isms rise in freedoms slow demise
 while Hollywood reviews the movies
 in truth and lies;
the end of an era welcomed in the shanty towns
 as Europe recovers with a parade of suicidal clowns;
 off to war drafting historic days of infamy
when bloody battles raged 
 as alliances filled the stage
 and at last, a momentary peace was cast;
with love and hope returned again, 
 life was never quite the same;
 distrust, cold war gloom 
 threatened the next generations bloom
a hated war embraced love freely, 
 killed in a plaza at Dealy
 perhaps too easily, we gave it all away
 as nuclear power paved the new day;
the power mongers rose, 
 wealthy and the greedy exposed
 life continued for the bold, 
 growing rebellious children in the fold
 with yet a newer fear to mold,
wars and change in the aftermath 
 for everyone who has lost their path;
 equality returned to the open stage, 
 the promise of an enlightened age
 but time is never stationary
and no one man is a visionary
 with walls torn down and freedom's cries
 history burns with false truths and lies;
drugs and saturated imaged shadows quickly return 
 to clouded hazy minds burned 
 in foggy dreams to be unlearned
and fallen heroes disappear and die
 close the century with disappointment
 and no magic panacea provided ointment
now at the turn of time 
 in the final last hurrah
 a battle rages yet no one with power speaks
 of the lesson taught, 
history must once again, 
 repeat.

Seen it all 
 my dear father
  the foolishness, the truth, and lie,  
  in which mankind lives and dies
 the messages by which the common man exists
is only the futures that we all resist.




A musing recollection on my father's 100 birthday. 8/19/19
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
age
Form: Elegy

Kaos In -Part 1-

I got fired
For being awarded Most Desired 
The truth got liared
I got tired by the fact that you are wired
A different way than me
Why can't they clearly see
That I'll make a difference in this world of labels?
This world is like a wifi that has been running on a ticking bomb of jacked up cables 

Going thru a relapse of suicidal thots before and after
I hand you flowers of forgive-me-please after a disaster
After a rainstorm comes a rainbow of radiance,
A tragedy in reverse...a miracle cure, a prance dance - enhance my joy with Royal elegance 

Loyal me up as soon as I give in to my old ways (that's what's up) 
Cuz I've been unfaithful...mhm, truth sincerely hurts
To You, him, and her and I feel like giving up...I'm a filthy cup in the dishwasher, but I will be a spic-and-span cup (it shocks me to know many have given up so easily...I'm a whimpering pup)
I've been acting ungrateful...I'm inside out shirts...
I'm in my doom-gloom dorm,
Keeping warm through it all...I've crashed due to an epic fall or an accidental fantastic fail 
I'm an weird, empty Earth worm
Seeping through the wooden floors that are as tough as a well-built wall...you're a tough trail to tread...I'm a message never sent by mail 

Got crazy 
A lil lazy 
Got naturally hazy
Off of hyper wild-child
Inside me - so not mild
For a while, my mind has been piled
With nonsensical, fickle desire of my elevating empire 
I am home with my cheesy nachos on my lap while singing "Girl on Fire"
I'm higher than the clouds cuz I'm high off of laughter and bliss...something I cherish and admire 

It's cool to be real 
It's not legit to be fake
Ah yeah, it's not a big deal
Hit the brake for my sake 

Regret nothing
Quit that fussing
You're my everything
Carry on, do your thang 
Off you trot
Don't let me Rot
On the spotlight...
Tonight...despite your black and white ways of sparkling spite and under-your-spell might that shines so bright and it's wrong when it's right 

I'm a kid without his kite 
Stab me with love-me-not loathe - I can take it without throwing a childish fit with a mature kit with freezing fire foolwit
I'm sorry - I feel like shite 
I know I broke the friendship oath - I still luv u a bit, I must admit

Hear Me Pt 1

Born into this world –
with a cord around my neck.
Wrapped around 3 times –
my cord of life brought me near death.

Funny now to think –
I’d live my life with the same battles.
Foreshadowing my future –
(fighting) with demons in the shadows.

Fighting for my life alone –
seems no one hears my screams.
The things I love so much –
most of them cause danger to me.

My lovers over time –
in their own ways felt right to me.
Just to find that each of them –
would just cause me to bleed.

Not bloodshed in some valiant way –
no, bloodshed of the weak.
Beaten, battered, broken, –
it still haunts me in my sleep.

Pushed to brutal limits –
beaten like an injured dog.
And when I finally snapped –
see, only I was in the wrong.

Friends are just the same –
whenever presented with conflict.
Nobody wants to listen –
unless there’s favorable verdicts.

Throw away the whole relationship –
For sakes of being right.
Nobody really cares –
they’ll leave me here, far out of sight.

Family is truly fleeting –
they just seem to come and go.
Even those you’re close to –
(turn) into people you don’t know.

See, I have no true safe place –
nor a happy place nor peace.
I’m plagued by suicidal thoughts –
for my mind is diseased.

Why should I want to be here –
with no purpose, with no home?
The absence of my children –
is the worst pain that I’ve known.

“Stay alive for them!” –
so many foolish people say.
But I cannot fulfill their dreams –
(they’ll hold) false hope should I stay.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member plagerism

Due to the extreme measures my 
identity thieves have taken in order 
to extort my American poetry from 

mafia wise guys to corruption to Jamaican 
female impersonating me with data breach 
and severe identity fraud i adore writing 

poetry everyday but i must stop for now 
allowing these thieves some twisted sick 
respite away from tormenting me being 

on this sight allows them to be able to mimic 
terrorize me with terrorist threats it's very cruel
 but some people would do anything to harm 

innocent person god bless all of you here 
on poetry soup keep writing I shall my prayers 
are with my step son who took his life thanksgiving 

the shock of my mental health being exploited for gain
by identity thieves mafia corruption for gain leading to
101 reason taking his own life poetry in the wrong hands 

we sigh for the giving and pray for the souls of the silent 
beings for their pain shall always shatter thee earth the
infamous core tangible structure of the mind shall be 

replaced with insanity for a brief notion gathered for sheer
peace hence release I am completely traumatized my abusive 
ex his accomplice the arson murderer Ciro Gargano identity thief 

Jay Townsend Johnson Henry my complete stalkers trickled 
down ongoing abuse from my bitter arsonist ex husband 
sacrificed his son in order to assist these imposters to

extorting my American poetry to  allow this imposter 
impersonate me for gain literally giving my step son 
no other options taking his own life while family gathered
 
giving thanks a falseness knowing they were planted 
outside my door awaiting my disabled spouse and I to go 
to VA appointments so they could enter our home searching 

for poetry data to summit finally exploiting my mental illness 
my husband's 101 airborne releasing suicidal thoughts in a family
My step son set a plan and ended his life due to plagiarism.

It had been twenty years since I contacted the FBI when 
my identity thief arrived with her Jamaican gunman to end 
my life over my American poetry he died at my feet complete 

karma taking my step son 20 years later this operation forced 
him into suicide ending his own life shattered into after realizing 
the severe domestic abuse identity fraud plagerism arson murderer
Form: Vaasokht

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