My life was a dump, I’d hit a hump,
thumping along from bump to bump.
I just sat and sobbed when I lost my job.
I turned into a big fat slob.
My boyfriend left, the cat had died.
No-one heard me when I cried.
I kept tripping up and falling down —
who would miss me if I wasn’t around?
Why live like this, in misery?
I’ll end it all, then I’ll be free.
Will I get a gun, or hang by rope?
I have lost heart; I have lost hope.
Will I overdose to slip away,
or gas myself in the car one day?
Will I slit my wrists, or swim out to sea?
What will become the death of me?
I’ll make it easy; I’ll need no props.
(I can’t be bothered going to the shops.)
Here is a cliff — it’s nice and high.
Today is the day, I’ll try to die.
I have jumped off, air’s rushing past.
Wow, this is cool! This is a blast!
Oh, dear Lord, please try to forgive!
Wheeee! This is fun! Now I want to live.
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Author Notes
Author Note:
You might think I am being superficial and insensitive to people in suicidal situations. This is a poem about ME. All those situations happened to me. I know that life gets better in time. I would NEVER contemplate suicide, because I'd worry about missing out on something wonderful.
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