Speaking of Suicide

He spoke of suicide.
Or did he? Sometimes
I just imagine words

That might have fallen
So I can believe that
maybe I would
have helped
him.

He spoke of suicide.
Did I see the bruises
On his neck? The
scarred wrists? The
sick and bloodshot
eyes wandering
or do I just
wish I had?

If I had seen the signs

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poem by Tallie Pascoe
Added by Poetry Lover
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Every Purpose

A time to kill, I have killed
I have drenched the rivers dry
A time to laugh, I laughed first
To bring me to my time to cry.
A time to be born, I was conceived
Whether alive I still don't know,
A time for love, my love was lost
On my time to hate when he did go.
I ploughed the harvest of discontent
For my time to reap the weeds I sowed.
I hurt many in my time to heal
Too much hurt and hate so showed
In time I danced in strangers arms
And mourned the deaths of many men
I have cast all my bitter stones
I couldn't gather them again.
My time of war was self inflicted
My time of peace was long ago
I never run to hold no more
My time to gain? Nothing to show.

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poem by Tallie Pascoe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!