The Suicide

The page blank with innocence,
Dares her to desecrate it.
Tears fall.
Pain spills from her pen.
Words,
Violently scrawled.
Coming to a close,
I'm sorry.
The pleas of the chair echo as it scrapes across the floor.
A lofty height.
Such a thick cord,
For a petite neck.
The chair falls,
Silence.
She swings in the crisp autumn light,
Free at last.

J.O.

Reviews

[PaleWriter]

Death is a mystery we will never solve so one can only hope in a situation like that she really would be free. This is sad but it happens and one can only look at her and others situation with compassion.