Bullets never mourn your death
the way your loved ones do --
so why confess to it your pain
when we were there for you?
Why’d you choose a loaded gun
to wave as your white flag?
Why’d we have to see our friend
collected in a bag?
Your final ride was to the morgue,
your bed, a silver drawer --
what you thought would heal the pain
just burdened us with more…
You took the wrong way out, my friend,
the day you made that choice --
the day you kissed the loaded gun
and thought we would rejoice.
Now our lives are ripped askew,
our hearts, the weight of lead --
to think we lost you to the thoughts
you locked inside your head…
If only we could turn back time
perhaps a day or three;
and had the chance to be the friends
you needed us to be…
Then you’d still be standing here,
just like the day before --
but no, you’re resting in a box
and sentient nevermore;
Eternal sleep beneath our feet --
a death worth living for.
Author notes
This is about the pain that the suicide of a friend brings...along with many other things, it makes you feel as though you were critically inadequate to them while they were still alive - you can't help but wonder how things would've been if only you'd known how to be the friend they needed you to be.
Written August 22nd, 2005
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Comments
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Wow, great job. First of all, I'd like to say that I liked how the last stanza had two more lines than the others. It prevented the ending from being abrupt. This brought up a really good point, and I especially loved the first few stanzas. Nice write.
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That is some deep sh** and it is so true. lots of my friends say "omg i wanna die" but i need to show them this
LOVE
~D~
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