Desperation And Suicide Poem by James McLain

US we as them and the stigma is burried to deep the irrational dogma
by rule of law, me we and those that went on
into the void asking for help before our lights each turned out.
Knowing one life is 'Listen to me, it it is all that we have.
Under assault living unsafe in an envoirnment I did not make.
Death is a forgone conclusion suicide angels roam closer to home
always aware of space and time and their reality soon all must share.
Unlearned others outside looking in pretending to love what they hate
whom speak of your death as if they had from the start shared your pain.
Derogatory, rude and ignorant condemed mispoken statements
is it not to disturbing the rich, to deal with such lives on a daily basis.
Hearing to many of them those whom proffered with tight lips
and I have heard many times that each premature death
is a 'Sin', is a crime,
when in fact no last statement about suicide they made.
Suicide is wrong if I try and I live.
Suicide is right if I die in the end.
Of each human story that never was told of this this our pain and by it stopping
such pain is a desperate act by me
us each inside a person who did not want to live on.
Mentally tough each woman and man whom conffesed it had to say
Living we Died while alive we Live with depression or schizophrenia,
bipolar disorder, PTSD, or a similar illness suicide has let in and made die.
Those of US the we, you and these and the chemical thoughts not processed when our moods and judgment is made more suspect due to each individual mental illness-it affected.
The selfishness of the living
means nothing to the dead if while alive
each painfull thought gains them the whole world from their nothing.
As time marches on.