The White Death

My head, it hurts,

my nose, it burns,

but I know it will all go away,

I start to float up,

I start to see black,

and I know that I am free.

 

I don't have to worry,

I dont have to fear,

I don't have to do nothing but sleep,

I feel amazing.

 

I know that its wrong, 

but I can't help myself,

I know that I have an addiction,

but what else are you going to do,

when your life is out of control.

 

I don't feel so good, I went to far,

The White Death grips my brain,

I'm know I'm dying as I pour out my last line,

this is my chance, I could save myself,

but I know I can never be saved,

I roll up the bill and lean over the line,

soon my body will be still.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

Glena Waterhouse

Another great job! This one seems to be about suicide as well as out world.

You continue to thrive this quarter!

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741