Methods Poem by Adg

Methods



my bed is too cold
and my head is too hot
so I sit here and realize
I'd rather much rot
into the ground
comfortably numb
and in my hands
sense the weight of the gun.
but it's locked in its box
bullets hidden away
and I decide in the end
that I'd rather stay.
for it'd be too much to clean
for dear old dad
and my poor older sister
would be would be driven so sad
and family would weep
and their tears would collect
but wouldn't compare to the Nile
of crimson neglect.

a rope would be nice.
in the bathtub- a slice.
or a toaster dropped in.
or to sink my chin
beneath crystal blue water
wander to psycho's slaughter.
poisons have options,
one can shoot, snort or eat
but to decide to stop breathing
to make myself obsolete...
falling, however, could give me a thrill
or maybe I could just swallow a pill.

but still in the end
its easier to stay
to live out my life
let fate have it's way.
if I'm wanted up top
I'll some day be there,
but more likely than not
I'll end up downstairs.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Elena Sandu 15 May 2011

Glad you haven't do it, but the end is not right: you had chosen the hard way, to live life! That means lots of tears, pain and fight to stand up.But after always comes the smiles! I see love and beauty in your heart. Keep living and write as much as you can, I will read more of you, glad to have found your poem, it gives me power to go on, I know we are not alone, I can relate to the feel of it. Thank you for share,10

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