“Life isn’t a bed of roses,” they say,
But in a logical sense, isn’t it?
With beautiful petals in the wind they sway,
And deadly thorns to accompany it.
Everything seems to be falling apart,
Trying my best to gather myself.
Looking at the pieces, where do I start?
My life- A Pot of Sadness; With me- The Terrible Chef.
I’m horrible at making decisions,
I hide behind my mouth.
Faced with many bad situations,
I’m drowning in my doubt.
I’m not dead but neither alive,
I’m a ghost with a beating heart.
In all this pain I try to strive,
The little me, all this, would never forecast.
It’s eating you, it’s tearing you,
You’re being killed by sadness.
It’s ripping you, it’s crushing you,
Why live in a land of darkness?
You’re killing yourself,
Little by little, day by day.
None of this would ever end,
If you continue this way.
Killing yourself mentally, physically or emotionally
Is something you decide,
Why not live happily and joyously
In God’s hands you reside.
“If you want to kill yourself,
Kill the old you.
Kill the self that thought of killing
Cause that’s not YOU!”
Happy WORLD SUICIDE PREVENTION DAY