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Poetry By: Luvving

Having had enough of the stresses in life, suicide is the only way out for this person.

Submitted:May 9, 2012    Reads: 258    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   

It is the hour, the pain, the torture endured for years.

Making ends meet, not knowing how I will compose the days

I rest my hand upon my chest, thumping as the drums of a swift march.

Awash in sweat, tears that fall without effort.

My head pounding like that thumping heart

Tension at it's height as I shake, tremble with fear

I count the pills that will take me there, to deaths door

All eighty four of them, my cries too long ignored

So this, this will set things right and there will be no doubt from this day on.

For tonight I will selfishly take my life; yes my own life.

Why should I just exist, as I've exhausted the earth since the day of my birth.

No one loves me and no one even tries, tired eyes have been blinded by years of tears.

The tumbler of water is calling me, two pills then three, even though I heave as it gets too much for me.

From the chair to my knees as the pressure of my biggest mortal sin is coming to the crescendo.

I'm weary as I slump further, stomach in pain and my eyes fight the finale', on laboured breath.

For a moment the lights went out, or did I dose, I don't know.

I can no longer stay awake, time has come so fare thee well.

Here it ends whether sleep or that permanent deep!



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