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It Could Have Been

A dark and dreary day it could have been,
A funeral procession,
Heads hung in mourning numbers,
A young woman in infinite slumber,
Buried in rich red velvet and dark mahogany;
Her friends and family in agony.
They ask, "Why did she want to leave?
To go, and make us grieve?"
The thick gray headstone might have read,
Our daughter, Forever, we lay her to bed.
Then they'd walk away, weeping
And she'd just be sleeping...

That was the way it could have been,
After weeks and months, maybe ten
Years would go by, and someone would query
"Who was that girl, so young it was eerie,
That she would want to die,
Even before she gave life a try."
Or ask, "Think of her mother, what must she feel?
Does she still think if this is actually real?
Or does she hope her baby will still come home?"
Even though now her soul might roam
In the wide open world she needed so severely,
Despite the people she hurt so badly...

That was almost the way things turned out,
Death seemed the only way to go about
The confusion inside her heart and soul,
That pain added to all other hurts-the whole
Suffering-that came with the package.
All that bottled emotion turned to rage,
She found a self-destructive outlet,
Her way of screaming, but being quiet
Enough for no one to hear
Her pain, and all that fear
Of dying in that grotesque way,
Wanting to go, needing to stay...

That is not the way things are now,
She has learned, and she knows how
To feel pain and cry, letting it all go,
And float away with the breeze, so
She is happier, her mother doesn't ask "Why?"
Her friends don't wear black, marching by
Her grave, her family doesn't weep
At the memories they so painstakingly keep.
Now, all together they can sit in the sunshine,
Making new memories and laughing away the time.
She loves what life gives her, even if it invokes a tear
To form, she is glad to even be here.

Review Request (Intensity): 
Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)
Editing stage: 


A nice write about the fallacy of most suicides and overcoming them. One line in particular I'd make a minor change in :stanza 2, line 9. try either changing "wish" to hope or "will" to would and see if you like it better.
Last 2 lines of 3rd stanza are excellent. Now as to a bit of advice which has proven to be Very helpful to me. Always read your poetry out loud. There is a Lot of difference between how a silently read poem sounds and how it sounds spoken aloud and this difference really helps in spotting lines which don't sound quite right. ..............stan

this piece proved to me again you are a natural when it comes to displaying emotions in words. very vivid imagery. especially loved the ending. good to see it doesn't end wuth tragedy. Keep up the good work.


trundles over the ruts and lumps
as a sturdy vehicle noble
Not hung up on lowrider bumps
the outburst and tears
and those fears..

the what if's

been down this ol road..
even lately
and survived freezing
the hospital stays
there seems to be the random
reasons to be around
People look up to us
they see our good

God knows there are enough
standing on the heads of
those gone before
glorifying themselves

Pain is an intolerable thing
and lonilness
and the worlds the no one wants
to claim or be

Very good descriptors in this
and nothing defined
almost a beyond
view which I like
and the sticking around
too that I like..

Me I like to stick around
the party of life sure looks
but you see things work
after everyone resumes
the day to day
and not all have rosey

Everyone has their
tasks and burdens to

You are a great writer
and I enjoyed this
from the youthful

Thank You!

That you have moved away from the maws of death, and into a realisation that life is beautiful and a gift that we must treasure is lovely.
Have a laugh now, and know that only flat Earth believers can see an end to things lol I live on a round ball here by accident or design, there is no end to the surface of a ball.
Young Lady the number of things that have happened in the past, that is stretched out to infinity behind you, so that you can be here to live and love a physical life, is infinity itself.
Your writing is of a standard that if trained by the discipline of correct forms and absence of typo's, you can be a star in the world of writing, poetry is only one verse of the books there at your minds fingertips.
Go well young Lady, learn from the best and take this chance to take all that is offered from others.
You are worth it,
Yours Ian.T

Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

I thank you all so much. It makes me feels so much better when all of you help me out. It means more to me than you could ever know. Thank you all for your time. Lan.T I thank you for telling me I'm worth it. Now I believe it.

Åłåńå Fłøręš

author comment

for a teen-aged Alana. I thought you're really talented.
Welcome to the Neopoet
Keep it up!!


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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