In the notes of every sucide

Mixed in the thoughts of future

Lost in the jungles of competition

Loser to the battle of life

Failure in the jaws of love

Living disaster in the eyes of known

Responsibilities at very bend

Pushing on to pull that trigger

Cut this rope of life…

Poison leaching into the confused sole

Whispers manipulating the mind

All those sleepless nights

Those unsung acheviements

Clogged in the sink of time

Even breath seems to be suffocating

Sympathy is drowning you

In a crowded room yet not a sole to speak

May be the simplest solution

You are no coward to hide from fears

Step up, pull your chest a little higher

Take a larger stride, a deeper breath

A wider smile,fool this world,you are not weak

Sucide is not a game but the end to the people who ever loved you

The collapse of everything you ever fought for

The memory of you sold to a tragedy

A incomplete story ..

© G.V Raghavasree

I have written a small abrasct poem on sucide. The number of sucides are increasing gradually. It’s common in a age group of 15-35yrs.

Sucide is not a virtual game if you die you will not get a another life. The situations leading to it are tough just a like phases of the moon. A moon does not always shine like it is expected to but it doesn’t stop shining and believeing that it can. We should learn something from the moon.

I would be happy to hear your thoughts on it…