Funny Suicide Poems | Examples

These Funny Suicide poems are examples of Suicide poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Suicide Funny poems written by international poets.


3am Breakdowns

Laying in the hospital bed taking in
stares and remarks, reminding
me of the inconvenience of my 3am
breakdown. The pills
still swirling around in my stomach. It's
funny how when I'm
down someone's determined to still
drive me into the ground. For that very
reason, being taken away to go stay
behind those four walls in that hospital
room, walking around in grippy socks,
and eating
crappy food on a tray, felt safe. I was
safe from peoples abuse
resulting from the inability to love.

-from my book "The Sylvia Plath in me"


Premium MemberImmolation: Words From the First

Both of me became an alcoholic, at last. 
Time to split into a third.

The first was too funny, not focused enough. Fun, but useless, cute but upside down; loved by all except the self; living for a dream.

The second was too scary; terrifying with empire focus; intimidating professors and local chickens, keeping them awake at night.

Drinking turned one into the other, and vice versa vis-a-vino: A party trick. 

The fun has gone and I don't know which one the world wants anymore.

It never mattered which I wanted -- not that anyone ever asked -- but seasons change and I need new shoes.

Wake In Mourning

First thought when I wake up,
Is how much I miss you,
I think of the light in your eyes,
Your beautiful smile too,

Your infectious laughs,
The dreams I had for you,
The goals you made,
And the ones you pushed me to do,

Your pure heart,
How some days you pushed through,
Still always lifting others,
I'm so proud of you,

I miss your hugs,
Your kisses and stories too,
I never thought this life,
Would provide so few,

Sometimes I pick up my phone,
To call or text you,
Tell you something funny, 
Or just ask what's new,

But then I remember,
What I wish wasn't true, 
You're no longer on this earth, 
I no longer have you,

How do I face each day, 
I haven't got a clue,
How can the world go on,
It doesn't make sense without you, 

I don't want to face another night,
Or wake to another morning dew,
Not unless this universe,
Gives me back you.

Peace

How would it feel to wake up with no worry? 
No more pain, sorrow or anxiety 
No more overthinking? How happy I’d be
Free from this mental slavery 

How sweet my emancipation day would be 
No more whips and chains life bestowed upon me
I have so much flaws that you don’t see
I cover them up so you only see the good in me.

I’m like a blue hole.
The surface is a beautiful indigo, but pitch black below.
Sadly, sometimes the darkness consumes me 
It has me in a chokehold like a dog on a leash 

Some days I want to go to the beach without a life vest 
I can’t swim so there’s only one way my visit will end 
I imagine my lungs being filled with salty sea air
The wind in my 4b/c hair 
That beautiful body of water will be the last to see my tears

No more heartbreaks
No embarrassment 
No more tears 
Just Peace 

The end probably feels like a breath of relief,
But you no longer need air to breathe.
As much as I want to be freed like Kunta Kinte
My leap of absence would be a pity 
I’m talented, beautiful, funny, and witty
So I’ll push through until God says my mansion is ready.

Satirical Journal Entry 1 Attempting Suicide: Just The Beginning

Satirical Journal Entry #1
Attempting Suicide:
Just The Beginning!
If I killed myself today would anyone notice? Would anyone be at my 
funeral?
If so, would they come just ot give themselves peace(piece) of mind over 
all the things they took from me?
I guess better late than never!
Hmmm..........
A corpse could always use a loan or a shoulder to cry on.
I wonder how I would be dressed?
Ah....... maybe somehow right before I die I could mangle my face so my casket would stay closed.
-Less opportunity for more disappointment that way.
If I killed myself today all chaos in my mind would end.
I would be in hell for sure 
but I know that all this torture on earth would be forgotten.
Yet one question still remains.
Is it worth the damnation?
Yes! I am a selfish !


Is Waiting

"Yes, get in the tourist bus; a funny ride is waiting
You will enjoy kissing the clouds - and rain slide is waiting."

Is my heart nothing for you? Say, if you love someone else?
To hear the truth from you, my heart - do not hide - is waiting.

Where are you? O my beloved! Got much involved in work
Have you e'er thought anxiously at home your bride is waiting?

Someone who shines in the stars | promised to be mine fore'er
Smiles at me and for me one on sky's that side is waiting

You have indulged human to suffer: wars, droughts, destruction
For being broken - by our hands - now your pride is waiting

She - a beautiful stranger - left saying, "We will meet soon.
Now I have to have a trip: my tourist guide is waiting."

What will be found in the room? The corpse of a young poet
Goodbye - for me mysterious suicide is waiting.

Thick N Thin

My hair was thick for a moment
My heart was thick for a week
My love is thick when you want it
Though afterwards, I can't speak

If you won't come by the bedside,
You can still come to the back door
There's all kinds of fish in a red tide
And a hopeless few still down the shore

Everybody's dealing with sickness 
Nobody knows any cure 
The worst kind of debt is thickness 
Against that, no one's insured 

The red meat is thick in the middle 
The dark meat is thick like the past
They're now thickening individuals 
I guess so they're fit to be gassed 

If you find that you're in the thick of it,
Maybe you'll be amazed
The plague don't care if you're sick of it 
And God lets you know when He prays 

Thick as thieves —
Thin out the herd —
Isn’t it funny 
How the line between thick and thin 
Is often blurred 

You know I’ll be yours through thick and thin 
I won’t fly out the door when the money rolls in 
I’ll be the singer you always wanted
I’ll be the glamor you never flaunted

Big Fun

Big Fun

You think it's better
  So there you are, nothing's for sure  
     Nothing's forsaken so you leave us behind           
        It's the road you've taken

It's all in your letter
 And there you were, now it's for sure   
   A myriad of screams, the way it's so funny
     The way she cries, she's going to burn on fire
        But now she can dance

Our gods wanted to get her
   And now you are the way your supposed to
     And the rest of us laugh
       Are you a rebel or an Angel who lies?
          Irresponsible scream and many eyes
    
Some call them Heather
  And that's what you were  Nails painted black
    But who am I?  Look at us watching
       But turning away  Passing up Heaven 
          A myriad of screams

 So stand in the circle and pull down your robes
   Thoughts of death are chilling 
      But they laugh anyways     
         I Love me  I Love me
           My blood turning grey
              Society  Society
                 And so it will Rain

In Death We Think

Close your eyes within this eternal sleep
          Envision such a beautiful melancholy life
               Rejoice and laugh, smile wide as you weep
                    Leaving behind four kids and your wife

     Ignore the music playing to remind you of grief
          Remember how quiet it is in death all alone
               Impulsively thought it would bring me relief
                    Stepping off the curb into the impact zone

     So cold now here in this bed of all eternity
          I wonder how my wife will keep warm at night
              Dry mouthed but it's life for which I'm thirsty
                   If this is Heaven then it's all black nothing white

     Funny that in death you never actually sleep
                                   Praying to the Lord for my soul to keep...




    Written for Contest: Poem about Death 05/15/18
                      Theme: This Eternal Sleep/Hosted by: Broken Wings

                      Placed 4th in Contest Results

Son of Lazarus

He has nothing left to give.
He was fifty years old and brunt out.
The last ember of a once beautiful firework.
Soft music couldn't do it.
Pills couldn't do it.
His son couldn't do it.
His wife couldn't do it.
Sex couldn't do it.
A beautiful sunset couldn't do it.
A quiet room rarely did it.
Inspiration rarely did it too.
Laughter?
That made him smile.
Even though he had lost the knack to be funny.
The misery he felt each day overwhelmed his senses
With hopelessness.
The crowd still roared.
The sea of hands still showed.
But he was lonely.
A figure more pitiful than his reflection could ever reveal.
There was nowhere for him to go.
He had run out of options.
Life had won and death was the prize.
How he longed for it to be all over.
For reality to turn him into a dream.

If Only

To be one with the sea,
No one would know,
No one would care.

The pain of nothing would cease to exist,
Feeling the water fill your lungs,
If only.

Funny how you'll only feel alive
On the brink of death
Finally one with nature.

The water filling your lungs,
The burning wrath of pain,
If only.

Yearning to feel your existence,
Yearning to feel the pain.

You envy those who feel it,
They're alive while you're dead.
You died years ago,
Your soul is gone,
Your body is empty, wandering the Earth.

Not broken, but untouched.
Yearning to feel your existence,
To be alive.
If only.

The effort to keep your heart beating,
When you're already dead.

Bring your soul back to this earth among the living,
Stay alive,
If only.

Knife

Not even a single day
Not even a single moment
My heart has not a sorrow to say
A fragile ground and a sky of cement
Not even a single time
Not even a single tear
My soul has to endure a crime
And go through another despair
Everyone has a hidden knife for me
Everbody is a past, current or future enemy
And I just want to laugh at this madness
Because I can't understand why
As if a solution is the mother of another distress
And at the same time I just want to cry
Isn't it both funny and sad
That a life a can be that bad?
And sometime, I can't feel anything
I open my eyes and see nothing
Then I want to smile and scream
When I realize that joy is just a dream
I want to tear off my hair and bang my head
I want to express my pain until I drop dead
I want to drown in a pool of oil
At time, I think that it would be better in hell
My tears would just burn and boil
Love and friendship were never done to me well
What should I do, what should I do, I don't know
© Loic Tran  Create an image from this poem.

Gone and Forgotten

It's funny how some people say
"you'll miss me when I'm gone."
Your absence may be thought of once,
but the world will still go on.

Confound within my barriers;
I won't dare ever cross the line.
Sadness is but a wall
between two gardens of mine.

All alone in this cell
with no cracks to break free;
the glowing rays were scattered away
and never got to me.

I wrote your name on the bullet so
my sorrow could forever embed.
I wanted you to know that you're the last
thing that went through my head.

I thought that I was better dead,
as my life simply lacked a will.
Echoes of my miserable past
remain in my cage still.

Bullying

( BULLYING )

Billy thompson got picked on at school, they always would take his money.
They would call him names like Fat Albert, and thought that it was funny.
Billy was angry so he told his mom, but she thought that he was lying.
He guessed that she didnt care, even though every day he would be crying.

This went on for many days, he tried to tell his teachers.
They said dont tattletale, that he had some stunning features.
Billy was mesmerized, he didnt know what to do.
He couldnt walk around all day, feeling sad and blue.

That Thursday was herendous, the name calling it just grew.
After school he got into a fight, and ended up black and blue.
His mother said he probably deserved it, you shouldnt pick a fight.
So billy thought long and hard, before he went to sleep that night.

He went to school the next day, he had a surprise inside his coat.
He wasnt going to get picked on any more, on the paper was all he wrote.
The bullies came as usual, and Billy`s face got read.
He pulled a gun out of his coat, and shot himself in the head.

Philosopher's Elegy

Prof. Twittie died from an
experiment; like and unlike Socrates, he intentionally
took hemlock, to see how the afterlife looks like

He intended to return
to the physical world after his
observations, which he didn't

For a century now, no one following
Prof. Twittie’s school of thought
has yet dared to take poison,
in order to return with Prof. Twittie
back to the physical world,
and finally conclude their findings
in pen and print

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