I Lay Upon the Cold, Hard Floor

I lay upon the cold, hard floor
The empty bottle of pills beside my head
And the glass of water on my left
That had helped me end it all.

I lay upon the cold, hard floor
Wondering who would find me here
My father, my mother, my sister?
I thought of how happy they'd be
Free of the burden that was me.

As I lay upon the cold, hard floor
A man, swathed in black, approached me
His face was hidden behind a black veil
He bore the air of danger
But he was tender, he was gentle.

As I lay upon the cold hard floor
The man extended his hand to me
So I stepped out of my hateful body
And met him eagerly.

Death took my hand in his
And I smiled one last time
For I was free
Free from life.

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This Poems Story

I was born in Ireland and I have lived here my whole life. I am thirteen years old. I have one sister and two brothers. My poem was inspired by a burning desire to understand what goes through one's mind when taking their own life. I think suicide is a frightful aspect not many people understand. I tried to put myself in the shoes of a person who felt life was a burden and their only escape was death. I hope to be a psychologist and an author in the future.