CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISM PLEASE
The blank and white ground
The peaceful feeling all-around.
I know where I am
My palms start to clam.
Suicide.
He has claimed me
To an extent I am free.
Forever to roam
Never going home.
Suicide.
It’s not your fault, its mine.
I always lied saying I was fine.
I watched the blood wash down the drain
Thinking of nothing but the pain.
Suicide.
It wasn’t because of stress
My life wasn’t a mess.
I was just depressed
Nobody ever guessed.
Suicide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Danielle; It looks great to me... flows well... scans well and the repetitive use of the word 'suicide' hits home the message... Only change I'd suggest would be to divide it into stanzas with suicide as the last word in each stanza... Great write!