David S Dennis

(99) To Those Who Pretend To Care - Poem by David S Dennis

Seeking oblivion I googled the suicide pages In search of a recommendation.
All I found was anodyne drivel telling me not to give in to despair.
If I survive this night in spite of myself I know what I’ll have to do
What the world needs is a suicide page that’s not a reproof but a how to.

Six point six billion the worlds population, one point three percent die every year
That’s eighty six million, a big pile of corpses, One more or less is very small beer.

For all of those who pretend to care and for those rare few who do
I say get a life, but make it your own, unless you’ve a mind to take on some pain
All that you’re doing is saving the misery, storing it up for the next rainy day.
Take all of your misguided worthy intentions and all your trite theories and pack them away.
Take your moral philosophy your truth and your certainty; take it all back to your Moral Authority.
Take it back to your god with a message from me.
You do not exist you are just an idea so who are you to begrudge me the same?

Comments about (99) To Those Who Pretend To Care by David S Dennis

  • (8/8/2007 2:49:00 AM)

    I couldn't agree with you more about the prospect of living till a natural death. I think I came from Sparta. (Report)Reply

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  • (1/22/2007 8:07:00 AM)

    I once attended a death of a man who arranged his own suicide, right down to the party prior to his death. Of course he also arranged the radio interviews and the fact that two journalists were with him when he died...oh and did I mention...his family was with him too, while he twitched away in his last few moments...
    Anyway...I'm sure that if you did this it would be a loss to the world...because you seem to have a fine mind, and are a pretty darned good poet. You would be missed.

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  • (12/27/2006 4:21:00 PM)

    A poem from you i would like to forget. (Report)Reply

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  • (12/18/2006 8:56:00 AM)

    i fell in love with the ending. (Report)Reply

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  • Tailor Bell (12/3/2006 4:49:00 AM)

    I appreciate the honest account and vivid viewpoints in this piece despite the pointed edges. Additional comments below do help in the overall understanding, but you shouldn't apologize. What would poetry be without passionate albiet inflammatory work. Can't say I haven't lobbed a rant or two into the fray. -Tailor (Report)Reply

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  • (11/21/2006 12:16:00 AM)

    I have considered removing this poem because it is gratuitously rude to those good folk who try to help. To them I apologise with the qualification that I was a little bit nuts when I wrote it and I just didn't care who I offended. Well now I do. I beg your pardon. I have decided not to remove it though because although rude, its harmless, and a fairly true expression.

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  • (11/20/2006 10:09:00 PM)

    David, This is a very angry poem, which is probably why you survived. I understand your rage against those you don't understand who don't understand you. I also respect your point of view without agreeing with it. I guess the moral is, if you're trying to help, learn some decent counselling skills, and strategies for life, otherwise back off! I doubt God's got much to do with it. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxx (Report)Reply

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  • Jeff Hobbs (10/22/2006 7:14:00 AM)

    One would have hoped that a poem like this would have been accompanied by a biog of the poet that detailed time, method and successfulness (or not) of recent suicide attempt. By the way, God says he was a good idea at least.... beats bonsai growing anyway. (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 21, 2006

Poem Edited: Monday, October 25, 2010

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