I spy a child on the bridge
Leaning, leaning, leaning
Crying, mumbling, gasping, shuffling
Pity in their eyes that I cannot stand
I cry out for them to stop
They tell me their woes and I told them
Stop
That child didn't go to the bridge again.
I spy braided hair
Draped over rope
A noose
Choking on their tears they look up
That face I cannot stand appears once more
They tell me their woes
They throw away the noose
I take it for myself
I never saw that braided hair over a noose again.
I spy a girl
Small, petite and malnourished
Disheveled and broken
Noose in hands near a bridge
Down below freezing water
The reflection clearly visible
Rippling from time to time
She ties the noose around the side of the bridge
Hugs the noose around her neck
Tight
Leaning, leaning, leaning
Choking on tears
When will someone save me?
My first vent poem I did after I felt slightly suicidal. I was sick of being belittled and thought that I was not needed. I had helped many people before like an emotional crutch, and felt happy I did so until they left. When I think about them I wonder why I did that. People have their own fights to face, and others can help them, but no one helps me. Of course suicide or self harm is never the answer.
Others will get hurt if you do these things.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryMost of these are vent poems, may be inspired from something else as well but might not be credited. Since these are vent poems I write them in the spur of the moment, and might have watched something beforehand that slightly inspired it then forgot...
