Do I Deserve To Live? Poem by Chelsea Hansford

Lying in his cold bed,
He wished for death,
To sweep over him.
To save him.
He wanted to scream,
To cry so hard it hurt,
To be dramatic.
But he couldn't.
Instead a small sob,
Ached through his soul,
And out his battered body.
He bit his lip,
As hard as he could,
Trying to see if he could,
Handle Inflicting pain,
Upon himself.
He wanted to be gone,
Melt into the blowing winds,
And become a faint whisper of
'Do you rememer that boy? ,
That poor sweet boy?
Look what they did to him,
Why didnt we save him? '
The blade sits cold,
In his shaking hand,
It feels unreal.
Powerful.
Such a small, beautiful object,
Holds the answers,
To His one question,
'Am I good enough to live? '
No.
He couldn't live knowing the world,
Didn't want to love him back.
And like a coward,
Took his life,
In his family home.
Forever lost is the spirit,
Of the little boy unloved.
Unsaved.

And with that the answer,
Became so clear.
To ask yourself if you,
Have any right to live,
Means you answered the question yourself,
By finding no worth,
To fight for.