Randy Johnson


My son's suicide


Less than one year ago I lost my son.
I had no idea that he had a gun.
I heard a shot that came from his room.
Now I feel nothing but despair and gloom.

i didn't know that he was capable of doing himself harm.
It hurt like Hell when my son died in my arms.
When it came to his anger and pain, he always hid it.
I cry every day and I still can't believe that he did it.

As they buried him in the ground, it was both painful and grim.
It was partly my fault because I didn't pay enough attention to him.
I can no longer look in the mirror because I see the reflection of someone who I hate.
Please don't neglect your children like I did or you may suffer the same horrible fate.

(THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.)

Submitted: Saturday, October 23, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (My son's suicide by Randy Johnson )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. To My Son, Robert Leary
  2. I am yours forever, gajanan mishra
  3. सिनायमोनि आंनि सिमांनि रजे, Bahadur Basumatary
  4. Wildly Into The Night, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  5. Drunk poetry, Christian Lacdael
  6. Opportunities, Christian Lacdael
  7. COPLA 68 INVOCATION: This Bad Guy World, T (no first name) Wignesan
  8. Yes I Do, Lalit Kaira
  9. Wooden Footprints, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  10. New Migration Equilibriums Time Shift Es.., Terence G. Craddock

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]