Death By My Hands
By the grave I saw the storms
When I thought of suicide.
Suicide - tormentor of my dreams,
Ripping me apart.
I sat in the grass
And let the demons take hold,
Ahold of me and my suffering,
The demons ended it all.
It wasn’t till I saw the markings
On a grave nearby,
That I read my name in bold
And I gave out a loud cheer.
When I looked at the reflection of myself
In water close by,
I saw the noose around my neck,
As tears filled my eyes and smiled.
I finally did it,
I was finally free,
Free from the storms,
Free from myself...
This poem is about:
Me