As I'm stairing into the mirror.
My focus is blurred.
A message is coming over.
But I must not listen.
Its a good message it wants me to live.
I have to listen to the dark message that wants me dead.
Voices are screaming out at me.
Its a gooder time as any.
I find the pills by the side.
Swallow them down quick.
Then I find the knife in my hand.
Its all a mystery to me.
But someone clearly wants me dead.
From the mirror of suicide
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem