I Know Why The Suicide Dies Poem by Patti Masterman

I know why the suicide dies
I know his secret wheres and whys
I know all right, why the suicide dies
And you can bet, it's nothing pretty

I know why he's gone astray
It's all the words his brain kept saying
And never stayed quiet, till he went insane
Some was bad, but some just petty

He couldn't stop thinking; I don't know why
And part was truth and part was lie
Scary things, that made him cry
And don't ever think, it was pretty

It wasn't romantic, it wasn't cool
He opened his veins like a bloody fool
He wanted to stop that unraveling spool
Still, you could never be ready

He tried to save the man inside
The ones whose wounds were opened wide
It was far too late, to consider pride
But it was never pretty.