Chronic Suicide Support

Solitude

The guitar remains ever so quiet,
Books gather dust on the shelf,
Food rotting in my fridge,
As I ponder the nature of self.

Want Ads cry out ‘Won't you join us?’,
And share in a thrill or two,
Describing untenable positions,
And things I never learned how to do.

To live or to die I don't know which,
Not as sure as Dane Hamlet of old,
But one thing I feel in my marrow,
My spirit's grown incredibly cold.

Always thinking of beginnings & Endings,
And the path that I've traveled in pain,
Searching for some basic reason,
Why I must ever try ever again.

yay, i thought i was the only one,
who liked writing poetry that rhymes ;D

(08-10-2009, 03:24 PM)snuggles link Wrote: [ -> ]yay, i thought i was the only one,
who liked writing poetry that rhymes ;D

Snuggles,

I've written such doggerel since I was 15 or 16. Most of it has been burned, cause the raw quality of the emotions embarrassed me. I just left for a few to find some other poetry to share with you. No luck, I'll have to look again.

fondly,

siasl

have fun