Dying Poem by Emily Straka

Cool breeze blowing through your hair,
Winged voices whispering while you fall.
Laughing manically, watching you dropp through the air.
They don’t care you’re fixing to hit a wall.

You’re scared of dying,
Terrified of being alone.
Now you’re waiting ‘til you can see again, crying.
It’s time now; it’s dawn.

Nothing has changed since that day,
Trusting no one anymore.
No longer terrified, just wanting everyone to go away.
Now just being happy feels like a chore.

You’re taking it one day at a time,
No focus or meaning to you’re living.
Your life has no rhythm or rhyme.
You have nothing to give when everyone wants you to keep giving.

Unable to decide how much longer you can take it,
No certainties that you know how.
The life that was once lit,
Is simply a dull grey now.