This I believe…
Have you ever thought about suicide? As a depressed teenager, I’ve thought about it often. Even daily. Killing someone or yourself is horrible. However, keeping it inside is even worse. That’s why I believe in death poems.
Death poems help people a lot. It gets their anger and frustration down on paper instead of people. You can have anything happen to them. Someone talks to much, cut out their tongue. Someone likes to hurt people, cut their heads off. Someone trips people, chop off their feet.
Death poems are amazing. They helped me out when I was going through some really tough times. I thought death was the only solution to my problems. It wasn’t. They can help anyone through anything.
If someone is talking a lot of crap about you or your friends, write a poem like this:
She laid there
Silent tears rolled down her pale face
She couldn’t talk
Her past catching up with her
Her tongue was gone
She talked too much smack
Someone finally did the right thing
Silencing her for good
No more gossip or lies
No more rumors or smack
Walking in she starts to tremble
One quick clean slice
Silence is golden”
Or say you had a really crappy day because your boyfriend or girlfriend just broke up with you:
“One quick hit
Not for good
Too soon for that
Heaving them onto the bed
They start to wake
Start to yell at them
“How could you do that to me?
You’re going to feel my pain now!
On finger and toe at a time
Then to the arms and legs
Soon nothing will be left whole.”
The next time you have a loaded gun to your head, a blade to your vein, a rope around your neck, or pills next to your water glass. Push it away. Pick up a pencil and write a death poem.
“The pain was unbearable
It was increasing by the second
The traps around her ankles were closing slowly
The pain more intense
Soon her feet weren’t going to be connected
Something close falls over
Then footsteps came her way
She yells and starts to cry
She’s been found
The stranger rushes to her side
Asking, are you ok?
He takes the trap off slowly
It snaps back
He kneels there
She screams in pain
Blood starts to pour down his head
Blank eyes stare at her
The truth sinks in
She is going to die
She doesn’t know
Either do the people who find her body.”
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