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Chris Richardson Poem
My life is done and no longer fun
When I'm here I have no time to spare
I have no fear and I am ready to disappear
No one will miss me when I am gone
The gun will ring one time and I'll be done
The fear of no one loving me isn't fair
Me disappearing is the time they will care
Today my family will lose their son
The fear of my family in the same pain as me
Me dying is the new awakening of joy
Even though it's the end of my road
I can't bear what hell will do to me
But let them destroy my lifeless body
Please just don't let my body be shown at the end of the road
Authors Note:
Please don't commit suicide
Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-273-8255
Copyright © Chris Richardson | Year Posted 2017
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Chris Richardson Poem
No matter how much I try.....No matter how much I attempt....I'm not good enough... I just don't understand, how can people cheer you on one week and beat you down the next?? "You did it" "Congrats" to "You'll never be anything" "you're just like your brother" In my head, I'm yelling " you" Knowing I don't have the courage to say it. I know life is supposed to be hard but I don't like this pain. Often I just sit back and cry thinking Maybe it's easier just to die and take my own life...MAYBE it's MY DESTINY. MAYBE IM NOT NEEDED...MAYBE IM NOT WANTED...MAYBE IM NO LONGER USEFUL...So why not. Why not give them an answer to all the pain? Why not show them I'm different. Time will tell, Maybe today, maybe tomorrow. But only time will tell...... :)
Copyright © Chris Richardson | Year Posted 2019
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Chris Richardson Poem
The boy who carried night within his chest
Once believed the road had reached its final bend,
Convinced that silence was his only friend,
And traded all his tomorrow for unrest.
He could not see the dawn through heavy skies,
Nor count the hours that waited to unfold,
Lost in a tale he thought was fully told,
Watching the shadow grow before his eyes.
Yet morning broke the perimeter of shade;
The quiet road stretched out and did not fall.
He learned the weight of years can shift and mend,
That every solitary ghost must fade.
Standing in light he never thought to call,
He sees the start where once he feared the end.
Copyright © Chris Richardson | Year Posted 2026
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