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

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