Suicide note..

I could feel the cold air around my head

My mind already seems to be dead

I nomore needs my body to be fed

Everyone has forgotten the battles I have led

I took the paper and the ink

Like the captain who knew that the ship was going to sink

I started to write

About my fate not so bright

Words came like less and little

But I could never settle

First of all, I thought about the people of my life

My sweet honey, my wife

She left me a decade back

Leaving me all alone in the shack

No kids nor pets

Neither do i own cars or jets

A lifetime in the coalmine

But could never earn something to call mine

“Worker’s leader” they called me

With violence the company paid me

I have never called anyone dad or mom

That orphanage was my only home

Could remember some faces

Of the nuns who filled in my empty spaces

Finally those friends who left me

And taught me that money was the key

I don’t know that am dying of cancer or poverty

But in death I could see a lot of liberty

I am happy to die and afraid to live

In heaven or hell will I thrive?

All alone from birth

And even more lonely at death

I have nothing to give or to take

But a life that flowed like a lake

They said no pain no gain

Afterall it all went in vain

Am sorry my Lord for being a useless

But I don’t wanna live around these lads so worthless

Away from this world, am running

I am coming papa, am coming

©2020 robusta

Published by Jimmy John

After a long term of boredom becoming a boredom. I think it's time to show up. A young lad who gave upon impressing people, instead loves to share, express and communicate those raw thoughts and vague imaginations with all readers, friends and folks.

20 thoughts on “Suicide note..

  1. I take this poem very personally. I was reluctant to read it, because people who have not lived through unbearable times, debilitating hardships and do not know how it is to not be able to “snap out of it” or how it is, instead, to snap into the lying, delusional dark voices in their heads and live their days feeding the monster can pontificate mightily, but they usually miss the truth. Nearly eleven months ago, I, myself, fell into this “snap out of it” category. I lived a healthy, positive lifestyle of service and thought I had “found the formula” to live a happy, joyous and free life, and eagerly shared “my formula” for success with others. Some, I do believe, did benefit from my formula.

    However, since that unbearable November day when the coroner called to inform me that my brilliant, handsome, hardworking and loyal 26-year-old son committed suicide in Auburn, KY, I have come to live a very different life. In my womb-of-grief existence, I put all my bright ideas and solutions aside and instead of having ALL THE ANSWERS, I ASK people what THEY want and what THEY need and am present for them. What I have learned during these months is there is NO formula in life. As I say, “You can do it all right, and it could turn out all wrong.”

    We are ALL broken. All I can do is help pick up pieces when I’m invited to do so. I say all this because your poem HIT the mark. It is amazing, because it captures hurt and accepts it in its purest sense, and the poem should be published everywhere for everyone to read. Let your beautiful voice sing on high! In fact, with your permission, I would like to share the poem on my blog sometimes. Sending love, light and wisdom.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Dear, I really feel sorry for you and your loss .I know you are going through the unbearable which can’t be healed by mere words. I hope the almighty give you the strength and courage to go through this phase of life. I will be privileged if you share it. Thankyou. STAY STRONG. Regards.

      Like

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