Robin's life was looking up just one more year to go,
she'd enter college on a grant, her writing pen in tow.
But just as things were going well her life then took a turn,
a baby came without delay who for her mommy yearned.
The boyfriend ran without goodbye and left her all alone,
her parents turned their backs and said that she was on her own.
One night when she was high on dope the screaming wouldn't end,
she shook that baby like a doll and then called up a friend.
While she was waiting an epiphany then struck,
she leapt onto the highway right before a speeding truck.
Robin was only seventeen...
Michael found his first true love in high school - seventh grade,
they dated for about six years as promises were made.
Soon there was a wedding and an island honeymoon,
the first few years were paradise, they sang a happy tune.
Depression takes no prisoners thus into the pit he fell,
no one could understand him or his descent into hell.
Therapy and drugs and lots of love should do the trick,
to him it seemed a waste of time, the pills just made him sick.
One night when she was working late he loaded up his gun,
blew his brains out where he stood and cursed the midnight sun.
Michael was only thirty-three...
Ginger lived a life of bliss with Jim for fifty years,
mostly there were lots of laughs and sometimes there were tears.
Children came and children went where did the time all go,
who knew the golden years would come with such a hurtful blow?
The man she knew was there no more his mind now far away,
she remembers all the years they worked and laughed and played.
Life can be a cruel game that nobody ever wins,
in the grand finale we're all paying for our sins.
One night Ginger decided that they both had had enough,
she held a pillow on his face until his breathing stopped.
She walked out on the balcony and gazed into the sky,
then plunged onto the street below, left people asking... why?
Ginger was a young seventy, Jim seventy-one...Dear fellow artistsThe above poems are not meant to suggest that suicide is a viable solution for the problems presented, or for any life problems that may arise. Instead, these poetic stories should shock, sadden, and make us all curse the pain that inspires such tragedies. It's been said that suicide is a "permanent solution to a temporary problem." How true, though I would substitute the word "end" for the word "solution," since the latter suggests a resolution to the problem, and that is hardly the case. In fact, suicide always exacerbates a problem, at least for the survivors, who now must face the rest of their lives with pain and guilt. And that is the real message here for any who have thought about, are currently thinking about, or may yet consider suicide in the future - please consider the people you will leave behind! In addition, remember that no matter how bad the situation may seem, no matter how intractable, there is almost always a light at the end of the tunnel. As cliched as that may sound, millions of people around the globe who at one time may have shared your sentiments have found this to be true. Life does get better. Maybe not today, or even tomorrow, but soon. But you will only find out this truth for yourself if you choose to live. As a community, as a human race, as a family, we beg: Choose to live!
For an uplifting yet realistic poem on the choice to live, click here:
Choosing to Live!
Winter winds chill me to the core
thoughts of summertime fade
darkened skies bring me down
I wonder if I can survive it
Something has changed inside me
I was happy once, carefree
The world has let me down
love no longer thrives
maybe it never did
A crossroad lies ahead
to continue or to sleep
to live or to die
to fight or to surrender
The days seem so short
nights linger, moon obscured
she no longer sings to me
the sun used to make me smile
he taunts me now (in absentia)
Memories flicker in shades of gray
childhood dreams lurk in misty shadow
we live just to die
the only question is when
and yet... and yet...
an echo, a voice from afar
gently, softly, whispering my name
telling me that I'm not alone
begging me to hold on another day
calling me to battle
love may not thrive, but it indeed survives
in lonely pockets of time and space
like a hidden treasure
it must be sought after
light appears, a flame at first
soon a conflagration
my heart is afire
my soul, aflame with new desire
And for more faith-building help please visit JW.ORG. Utilize the search engines for personal accounts of many who survived difficult situations, and even thrived!