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Suicide: ‘I write this to tell you, I am done’

Suicide is wishing I was dead,

Suicide is profound in my head.

It feels like I am trapped,

On my back, all my sorrows wrapped.

Suicidal Ideation all around,

I am falling in a well, deep down.

There is no way out, surrounded by doubts,

It is like a drought.

Complete blackout.

Enveloped in darkness, there is no light,

Me versus my thoughts, that’s the fight.

Grief surrounds, within me, I drown.

Chaos in my head, in no time i will be dead.

Nothing to say, nothing to hear,

All i feel, is intense fear.

As time passes by, tears roll down my cheek,

The hope of my survival is bleak.

In the end,

This letter i send.

‘Sorry Mum,

This is your son,

I write this to tell you,

I’m done.’

Help!

Not all wounds are visible;

Generation Z is in the need of help.

Eating disorders;

Stressed, depressed, exam-obsessed.

Bullying, harassment, emotional isolation surrounds them,

Neglecting the situation, all it does is bounds them.

Wrapped with fear,

The feeling of imprisonment now becomes a gear.

It’s a fact, nine out of ten have faced at the least one physical/emotional symptom.

With so many to approach but none to rely,

So many to talk to, but the easiest way is to die.

With so many of us going through the same,

You tell me who is to be blamed?

Treatments and therapies; Well, is it helping at all?

The truth is at the end we are confined by walls.