by Angell
I held the knife so close to my heart.
Like a foolish child I sat and I cried,
Didn't realize what I had done, what I had tried.
Tears mixed with blood, falling slowly to the ground.
Covered in blood, pulled myself up, in tears scribed:
"To those who don't care, to those who can't see,
Never Give up always thrive to be free."
Didn't know how many people would later cry.
"Tried to be free, yet I see this isn't the way."
Friend at the door, ran as fast as she could.
Too weak to say I'm sorry, otherwise I would.
In tears, looked at the blue sad day.
When you come and see this pool of blood and me,
This isn't the way my life was meant to be.
I Have this Garden of Poems
at first and then carried away with my greenthumb i planted everything trees and more trees and shrubs and bamboos and vines and hanging plants almost everything and so the blooming flowers died and the grasses diminishing like some hair of this baldness but nothing is lost in this garden of poems the birds came and built their nests some are still coming every morning and then the chirping begins |
Death Not Being The Way
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