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The Choice is Mine

A Journey from Inner Darkness to Slightly Less Darkness

By The Couch PoetPublished 4 years ago 1 min read
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I knock on the door

And guess who answers? —

No one.

Not a single soul.

But the pain is far too great —

And the choice is mine, right?

To make that cut,

or not.

The choice is mine,

To take that drink,

or not.

The choice is mine,

To swallow those pills,

or not.

The choice is mine, right?

To die?

Or not?

Surely, I cannot think;

Hate fills my brain

Where thought should reside.

Surely, I cannot eat;

Hate fills my stomach

Where food should fill.

Surely, I cannot love;

Hate fills my heart

Where blood should pump free.

Surely, I cannot live;

Hate fills my being

Where life should be booming.

I knock on the door,

And guess who answers? —

Hope.

And it’s a damn good thing.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

The Couch Poet

Just an NJ based poet writing about the human condition - my human condition. Hope you can relate!

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