I have a right -
the right to be angry.
Whether it be over the largest life problem I am forced to face;
or the most subtle solution, hidden by frustration.
I have a right to be angry.
I have a right to be infuriated, frazzled, upset...
I have the right to cry.
Whether it be a loud, uncontrollable sobbing,
or one glass tear.
Every one of my tears are entitled to me.
Lately, it seems as if these rights have been taken away from me.
Hide your anger.
Conceal your tears.
Save your insignificant life for someone else.
Where are my rights?
They are rightfully mine.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
