The Window Of Death by Megan

Everything is damp
and stained with blood.
Swaying,
hanging by a cord,
my breathes get shallower
and it gets
a little bit harder,
to see.
Dangling,
I can see my reflection
in the mirror.
I cry,
but no tears escape my eyes,
but blood,
seeps from my cuts instead.
Pain,
is gone
and I feel nothing.
I am gone.
A motionless body
hanging by death.
I look at myself from a distance
noticing the pain,
strife,
lies,
suffering,
draining
through my toes.
A cold soul,
I sit in a corner
and watch
what once was 'living',
die
and I am releived
with feelings of regret.
A scream.
a cry.
A weeping family.
A funeral,
And a bruise around my neck.

Sarah A (82.35.74.209) -- Thursday, January 22 2004, 07:34 pm

Megan
wow... i had goosebumps while i was reading this poem.
we all have days where we feel we cant go on, but then we get up the next morning and see that things aren't always as bad as they seem. they gt better. you just have to give it time.
great work. hope to read more of it in the near future.

Ash (63.53.113.57) -- Saturday, January 24 2004, 09:43 pm

no title
This is an amazing poem. It had great imagery.

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