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Defiance runs through my veins, as I grip the rail. My confidence is lacking, Just as it always is. “Last Chance.” I say to no one; Fuck that, I’m sick of chances. Suddenly, I’m falling; Faster and Faster. Allowing my weight to drag me down one final time. Shedding the pain and anger, Of all the relationships that never quite went right. For once, it’s all about me, About how I feel, And what I want. I reach my hands up, grasping for the rail, Which has traveled beyond my reach. Panic sets in, I never wanted to die, Not now, not like this. I just wanted to feel in control, Now, however, I have none. The sidewalk has the final say. |
morbid i like how it flows but you could put more emotion into it, and more description in how you're feeling, since it's about suicide... poems that are describing something, are never compelling to me, because poetry is all about the feelings directly translated to the page, and this has basically none. | Posted on 2006-04-12 00:00:00 | by mrmundane | [ Reply to This ] | |