Florence Laldinpuii Chhangte

The Suicider's Last Note - Poem by Florence Laldinpuii Chhangte

When the pain is too much,
Tears refuse to show up.

And when you're so numb you can't cry,
Would you rather choose to die?

Can you blame love for being a malice,
When you've turned into a masochist?

Trying to anticipate a blissful tomorrow,
Is but hard when the head and heart's in a row.

If home is where the heart is,
What's home to a heartless sadist?

If a fool dies a hundred times before his death,
What's there in living a life that's dead?

If you won't stop ragging a person for his cowardice,
Would he prove you wrong by taking his own life?

I heard of a world of beautiful people,
So, I'll leave to meet them with a heart full.

Dying must surely to easier than living,
When you're used to live 'dying'.

Alas, the grim-reaper's at my door,
At least I've got company in my last hour.

'Adieu' I shall endear you, dear Reader,
For you have been my only listener.

Topic(s) of this poem: life and death

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Please note: Just an extract of imagination.
(Not intended to be a real suicide note)

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Poem Edited: Wednesday, February 1, 2017

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