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A Poem for the masses

Decisions

Sitting in the dark room,
Needle in hand, tears shining on her face,
She feels the pain that sears her heart,
Tasting the blood from ripped lips.
As she watching the tip getting closer to her own demise,
The times flash in her eyes...

She walks foolishly with eyes closed,
Wondering why everything is so dark in her life,
Questioning why no one tries to save her,
To try and grab her hand
That lays limp at her side....
Pondering on why the world continues to never listen
To her screams of pain
While she keeps her mouth closed,
Never to utter a word.
Why does this insanity insist on tormenting her
As her sorrow blares in her chest,
Sightless scars constantly bleeding
As she breathes in the stench of the haunts
That she refuses to let go of
In fear of letting go of life,
When in letting go of the pain,
She would be able to breathe again.....

As the needle pierces her skin,
And her drug called sorrow flows her veins,
The tears stop,
A new pain trecks her body,
But the old pain is only gone
Because she allows a new one to come....
So why isn't she dead yet?

He stands cold in the dim light,
Cold yet so warm metal quivering in his shaking hands,
Thoughts of feeling the joy of his own blood
Flowing from his head,
A relieving stream of pleasure
As life fades away
Makes him raise the gun to his temple.
And as he prepares his own bullet,
The times flash in his eyes....

He sees the taunting abuse of his unhappiness,
As he watches in question
As to why daddy is beating mommy like he would a man...
Sitting in the corner alone
As his birthday comes and goes
Like dust on the wind
While people drop the material objects in his face,
Which mean nothing to him
Because there is no love to follow...
Hollowing alone on the street curb
While the other boys shunt him away
Like the Rudolph he is....
And sits in question
As to why he does not feel the feeling
That would surely make him feel joyous
And jump and scream for joy....
A feeling he has never felt,
A box that belongs to Pandora,
A mystery that is never for him
To find the answer to...
An answer as to why
He is so unhappy,
And so unloved....

And as he pulls the trigger,
In the instant it would take
For the gun to c**k back,
And his bullet called a path to happiness
Would enter his brain
And start a new beginning for him,
Or so he thought,
He forgot the pain,
Only to feel a new one.....
So why isn't he dead yet?

Because we haven't given up yet.....
Hope you like it....