I rush to the bathroom & lock the door,
I can't stand this pain, I can't stand it any more!
I go to the cabinet for that lethal pill,
Knowing that this one will help or kill.
My parents recieved my letter of suicide,
Their now wondering if their son is now dead or alive?
They pounded & pounded & said open the door!
I said NO you don't have your son any more!
They asked why son are you doing this?
I said I love you & blew them a kiss.
I took the pill then my life started to dim,
My chance for survival was very slim.
The door flung open with tremoundous power,
This was such a horrible hour!
Why did I have to take my life?
Why did I have to cause them such pain & strife?
Something was wrong inside my head,
Sorry mom & dad your son is now dead...
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Comments about this poem (Suicide Letter by Christopher Biddle )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Ernest Henley
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(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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