A friend tried to die.
He tried to escape the iron grip of life.
But he failed.
We managed to get to him in time.
We "saved" him.
He sat in a room for a day,
Coughing.
Retching.
Crying.
He was reduced to nothing more than a sack of flesh,
Only staying alive
Because the human body has an astounding capacity
For forcing you to live, above all else.
As I drew closer, he feebly reached out,
Squeezed my hand,
And held on as he proceeded to apologize.
It was all I could do not to cry.
Later, they shipped him out for rehabilitation.
They gave him drugs.
Until he adjusted to them, they affected his brain so strongly,
He couldn't complete the sentences he started.
He couldn't remember what he just started to say two seconds previously.
He went back home soon, though.
He seems okay.
But I'm not.
A part of me died the day I saw him in that hospital bed.
This was my rock,
The person I looked to when my life fell apart.
Now his life has fallen apart.
Now I have nothing to show me things will be okay.
Now I sit in a pit of depression
Deeper than any I've dug before,
And I can't see the way out.
Attempting suicide is the worst thing you can do to your loved ones.
It hurts them more than it could ever possibly hurt you.
Life gets better.
You just have to reach out.

There once was a man named Bobby
Who was bored and needed a hobby
He sat there and pondered
He thought, and he wondered
But nothing came to him all day.

So Bobby decided to write
But none of his words came out right.
His thoughts tossed and turned
And his first drafts, he burned
Because he felt his work was trite.

Suddenly, the room filled with flames
And he knew his first drafts were to blame
He tried to escape
But he was too late
And soon he screamed with pain.

He died later on that day
And his story goes on to say
Take pride in your work
And all of its quirks
Or soon you will leave the same way.

We're building a snowman
And it's not going well.
The snow just won't pack
And nobody will help.

It's cold and it's wet.
The ground underneath's muddy.
And we're sitting here wishing
That instead it was sunny.

The neighbor kids come
Saying they want to play
But only as long as
We do it their way.

They kick the snow 'round
And start a big fight.
Shove our faces in snow
'Til they're all white.

When we ran away,
They screamed, "No fair!"
"That's not in the rules!
You must stand there."

They kick down our snowman
And when we start crying,
They make Boo-Hoo faces,
And tell us, "Stop whining!"

The sun starts setting.
They all are called home.
We are left standing
In snow-dust alone.

Oh, we hate those darned neighbors
And their kind of fun.
From now on, we decide
How our happiness is run.

If you're ever feeling sad
If you're ever feeling down
If you ever cease to smile
And you begin to frown.

If you're ever feeling lonely
If you're ever feeling blue...
Just know that I'm right here
And I'm willing to help you.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

I cannot find a reason
To write a poem today
I search throughout my head
And look down every pathway
The inspiration doesn't come
I don't think it ever will
I guess I'll just chase inspiration
And beat it until it lies still.