Alone, standing at a window on the second story, seeing
everyone's life go by, but your own, causing pain to
surface.
A sorrowful heart mars the view, tears distort the way
things are seen.
Standing, looking out at beauty everywhere, finding none
of it reflected in me, causes deepest sadness within my
being.
Wanting to walk away and not see any more, instead,
staying, hoping, praying, that some of it can be absorbed
by me.
Ugliness of death rears it's sharpened head saying to me,
'what better place than this to die, amid all of nature's
beauty.
Look out, feel your body falling, seeing the peace and
tranquility you too can have'.
Knowing that suicide is wrong keeps me from climbing onto
the ledge, yet death makes so much sense to me right now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. E.K.L.