Whiskey was in my veins,
the night the blade imbedded deep.
The Staples closed the slain,
preciding weeks of hospital keep.
No one to care for the kids,
brought the calling of county hands.
Now back and no longer hid,
I must hurry while I still can.
Staring now at the wall,
with the worries from a hell.
There is no one I can call,
for no one's heart listens very well.
this poem, at least for me, begs for a poet note, BUT it is not NECESSARY. i do NOT assume that this poem is autobiographical, but, having read Julie's bio, i wouldn't be surprised. Julie, it is good that you wrote about this if it IS an experience you had. to me, it is a good poem, and i am not referring to the subject matter. i didn't notice the rhyming so much until i reread it. i like rhyming, so thanks for that. but i think you reached too far in your use of slain. for me, it doesn't fit. also, check out the word? preciding. and, why don't you make the stanzas four, instead of two, lines long? ? it is ok the way it is but i think it would be better combining into 3 four-line stanzas. as for suicide...............i don't condemn it at all, but i agree that counseling is a great idea, especially for someone young and with children to care for. thank goodness for county hands. i discovered this author when i read her comment on R.G. Bell's poem Preference. thanks for sharing, Julie. :)
A poignant piece but live on to write such wondrful poems! Life is trying but no use dying.
God's invisible hands are always with you- Suicide is not a remedy for life- Love life and live with gods grace- Life goes on however we try to stop it. share our feelings and be cheerful
I agree with Thomas, suicide provides no answers on questions. Talking is the first step down a long road. A good but sad poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
bri i wasn't in my right mind