Short Suicide Note Poems

Hi ho Hi Ho It’s off the edge I go….....

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In his suicide note
My poverty is to blame
No one else, he wrote...

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falsely accused
of not loving him
my son’s suicide note


4/10/14...

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Venture to the death
Whether gain or loss; go back
Bring home the honor....

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emotions ignored
talks taken lightly laughed at
suicide note death

Date: 7/25/2020...

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The body hanged on
Suicide note on the floor
Lizard just seer


-25.01.2021 Chattogram...

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Undo this
And quickly. 

Razors, the cut, 
The Edge, bleeding
Endlessly. 

I smiled because
Heaven took you 
from me. 

And I am not
far behind....

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My body I leave
to medical science
to prod and dissect 
to look at and inspect 

let's see 
if they can 
make more of me
than I ever could....

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There once was a man that was lackluster
Who's life was one giant cluster
Writes a suicide note
He slits his throat
Blank stares are all his family can muster...

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Sorry I cant change
20 years old, time to die
mum moved the mountain


Entered in "Any poem you want to write 50 words or less" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger...

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Yes I'm fake no moving parts nothing real or new about me.

Just another punk looking for a place or someones time to waste.

No this ain't a suicide note the easy way ain't as fun.

And I am nothing new....

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Kept now as a shrine
His mother often visits
And recalls finding him there
She touches the rope
That bit deeply in his flesh
Sits on the chair he stood on
Imagines the scene
As he kicked the chair away
Suicide note in the bin...

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Before she left during that frigid night in December 

She places a dying rose

With her suicide note  

A rose that was once so pretty 

To let everyone know

That even the most lovely 

Things in life come to an end



co...

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Death - The Final Pleasure

I’ve never liked mysteries
Including death
When I die it will be all over
No more suspense for me
No!  This is not a suicide note 
Or poem with an unhappy ending
Nothing so dramatic or mundane as that
When death comes it will be the final pleasure
No more no less
You can guess the rest...

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Listen to poem:

Colour of the  rose that I left with the note.
reddened eyes reading what I wrote.
Instructions for funeral readings I want spoke.
my motives and reasons I quote.
suicides my option the knife to my throat.
one single crimson drop lands on my coat.
nothing can stop me now,  my depression had no antedote.


Very dark comp entry Its what came with Crimson 26072016...

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S U I C I D E N O T E

This rhythm is a tide
of blood oozing in sickly
veins to rainless bones;
stanza by stanza- clots
drip and stink.

This poem is music
to the winds,
to loose whiffs out
the window panes,
to hidden souls
afloat dark haze.

This poem is a suicide
note authored
by a depressed soul,
he heartened to
embrace the kisses
of the great beyond.

it is sin to read this poem....

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Don't you see
It's not me!


Sad yet mad
Dry on glad 


Goodbye when
Death dies then


Suicide sums
Sad outcome


Pain dies here
Feel sad sphere


Drop dead feel
Loss now wills


Suicide note
No more rote


Ash and bones
Who atones?


No more tears
No more cheers


Don't you think
Loss frames brink?


Candid code
Circle mode




Leon Enriquez
27 May 2017
Singapore...

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All things have fallen to the wayside
And I cannot bring myself to go beyond the front door

The coffee table is messy with unopened mail 
And haphazard cigarette ash

Dusty knickknacks are silent and undemanding 
Each with its own place on the shelf

The past is nonsense, the present is nonsense
This life makes no sense

Breathe in breathe out don't breathe
Death is the only sensation ... cessation......

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All things have fallen to the wayside
And I cannot bring myself to go beyond the front door

The coffee table is messy with unopened mail 
And haphazard cigarette ash

Dusty knickknacks are silent and undemanding 
Each with its own place on the shelf

The past is nonsense, the present is nonsense
This life makes no sense

Breathe in breathe out don't breathe
Death is the only sensation ... cessation.......

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TO A FORGOTTEN SUICIDE NOTE...

On the gallows o time my soul
     Hung in despair.
Faith released its terrible swift sword;
     Least my thoughts forgot.

Least my thoughts forgot the footprints 
     You walked
To be free of the mystified feelings locked
     In catacombs of dreams
Stroking spiraling smoke to blurred visions
     Gone stale like yesterday's day.

Time passes and grief remains dissatisfied....

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The deep wounds and scars of the past
The rigours and torment of the present 
The blurry and scary pictures of the future 
Like a stampeding Buffalo have destroyed my morale
Leaving me in the cave with the serpent of risky thinking faculty

With depression I have struggled 
With thoughts of suicide I have wrestled 
Guess it is time to gain freedom from this burning and tormenting pain
Guess it is best to end it all now...

ABSOL...

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We found her note
This was unexpected
It had just one quote

She thought life was worthwhile
Or so it seemed
With a smile
She always beamed

Never had we thought her
We just couldn't believe
The clues we didn't infer
We should've lifted her sleeve

It's hard to say good-bye
Why didn't she just talk
We could've held her high
But instead she chose to walk

We found her note
"This isn't worth it."
That's all she wrote

*Written on May 6, 2012*...

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I'm not your tearstained dishrag. 
Will you end your suicide note with a hashtag? 
Just lock me in the metaphysical gulag. 
The real world's too much a drag 
for a fag. 

I am not digestible. 
I am a hunk of pyrite lodged in the 
jejunum of bureaucracy. 

I am a precious and coveted 
artifact hidden at the bottom 
of a recycling bin, underneath 
empty milk gallon bottles. 
Their pungent swill is a grimy 
filter for my blind beauty....

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One day you will arrive.
Night will enter in your pores,
in your bones,
like a baby trapped in a borewell,
crying, striking,
thumping.

On each table, salt moaned
for a classical taste.
A pink moon was smothered
in a virgin bed.
Death walked in a sensual style.

A black discharge continued
from the areolae.
Botox failed to uplift
the sagging breasts.
A thallium capsule broke on tongue.

There was no suicide note.


SATISH VERMA...

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One day you will arrive.
Night will enter in your pores,
in your bones,
like a baby trapped in a borewell,
crying, striking,
thumping.

On each table, salt moaned
for a classical taste.
A pink moon was smothered
in a virgin bed.
Death walked in a sensual style.

A black discharge continued
from the areolae.
Botox failed to uplift
the sagging breasts.
A thallium capsule broke on tongue.

There was no suicide note.


SATISH VERMA...

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