Disclaimer: I wrote this during study period, so of course it belongs to me. Permission to post on any site as long as my name & e-mail are included on it. :) i feel like being generous - it's halloween!!
A/N: this poem is purely fiction, none of this has actually happened to anyone I know, but it's a situation that I've crossed a few times with close friends and family. 3 Kilo
It seemed like only yesterday on the phone we said goodbye,
But then I didn't realize you meant that you would die.
I look at your prescription and nothing makes much sense,
And it's not because it's morning, or my mind is feeling dense.
The blood that's in your kitchen looks more like tomato soup,
The knife is only plastic, the crime scene illusion too.
My mind feels like it's racing down a dark and windy road,
It seemed like just a week ago you had turned sixteen years old.
Your birthday was a happy one, you celebrated sweet sixteen,
And in your eyes there was a certain special kind of gleam.
Your friends never knew the truth: you felt sick inside,
And evidence from your diary said that you just wanted to hide.
Just two days later the world had stopped – I couldn't believe my eyes;
You were lying cold on the floor, the blood saying you had died.
I couldn't tell your little sister what really happened to you,
I only said that you'd be gone, and for a long time too.
I guess you never had the thought of finding any help,
You assumed that no one felt like you – that's why you killed yourself.
Suicide really isn't the best or smartest way to go,
Heaven must be earned, not advertised for show.
I hope now that your soul is being watched over by God,
And the angels sing songs for you, so in peace you can sleep and nod.
I'll always miss my "bestest" friend, like many others do,
And just a little side note, I have depression too.