September 15, 2007
One of my favorite poem ever since HS, I like it to share it with you:
Suicide
by Teresa Segars
If I’m dead and in the grave, will you still love me?
If I look up, will I see the flowers you left above me?
When the worms begin to feed again, it feels like when you loved me.
When decay becomes my closet friend, will you be thinking of me?
I feel so alone since those days are gone when I walked in the sun.
I gave up my chance, in the darkness I chant while holding my gun.
If I knock on your door tonight, will I be welcomed in?
Would you be willing to forgive me of my mortal sin?
I finally escaped the whispers and lies in a life where I didn’t fit.
I brought about my own demise and ended here in this pit.
When the moon is full, I can feel its pull and think of the things I missed.
Regret is making it hard to think, it’s a shame it has come to this.
I just can’t seem to make up my mind but I guess that I’ve got plenty of time.
In this cold dark place of mine,
In this coffin, imprisoned inside, still contemplating my suicide.
When the worms move, I will think of you, do you still love me?
If I look up, will I see the flowers you left above me?
When the worms begin to feed again, it feels like when you loved me.
When decay becomes my closet friend, will you be thinking of me?
I feel so alone since those days are gone when I walked in the sun.
I gave up my chance, in the darkness I chant while holding my gun.
If I knock on your door tonight, will I be welcomed in?
Would you be willing to forgive me of my mortal sin?
I finally escaped the whispers and lies in a life where I didn’t fit.
I brought about my own demise and ended here in this pit.
When the moon is full, I can feel its pull and think of the things I missed.
Regret is making it hard to think, it’s a shame it has come to this.
I just can’t seem to make up my mind but I guess that I’ve got plenty of time.
In this cold dark place of mine,
In this coffin, imprisoned inside, still contemplating my suicide.
When the worms move, I will think of you, do you still love me?
Posted in my chronicle being, variety of Arts |
----------Destination Nowhere----------
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I am glad you liked the poem but my husband really wrote it but I just entered it in a contest. Really glad you like it
Comment by Teresa Segars — July 21, 2009 @ 5:52 am