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A Gift of Poetry. The unique gift for every occasion

Your words, your thoughts and feelings. Captured within a gift, A Gift of Poetry. Presented in a uniquely designed, boxed, hand-made card, with your verse of choice as a key emotional focal point. Truly, a 'once-in-a-lifetime' gift, a gift that inspires the heart and touches the soul.

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Words - Can kill...

Sadly, I receive a lot of requests from potential suicides. In a lot of cases their suicidal depression is caused by what other people are saying about them. In other words, words. I donated this poem so that *Jane* could start fighting back. Her true identity will obviously remain anonymous.

Words

Words, once spoken,

can't be taken back,

and they lay there festering,

like rotten fish in a woven sack.

And sticks and stones may break me,

but words also strike at my very heart,

and like an unseen destructive force,

they are slowly tearing me apart.

I'm so sad, I'm so mad,

everybody is talking about me,

nasty things, cruel things,

why can't they just let it be?

And I know how I can end this misery,

simple, a bottle and too many pills,

and these words will have blood on their hands,

one more of the unjust, unpunished and merciless kills.

Do you know how bad my life is?

Go on, just spend a day in my shoes,

I bet you'd be too scared to tread that path,

because, like me, you might find you've everything to lose.

And I've screamed out for help,

and those closest to me, sadly, struck out,

and I'm learning some very hard lessons

about life, love and what suffering is all about.

But there's one thing I'm holding onto,

and this is the truth, and this I know,

your cruel and heartless words can't hurt me,

and this valley is where my seed of greatness will grow.

So, talk, gossip, chatter all you like,

I am strong and I will learn to carry on,

because I know that I am right,

and you, undoubtedly, are cruel and so very wrong.

And if I have to tread this path on my own,

then so be it, I will find the strength within,

I will learn how to manage these feelings,

I will learn how to start again, how to begin.

Finally, I think friends should be friends,

and if they're not, they're simply anchors who weigh you down,

and no more will they suck from my cup of kindness,

because control is just another abstract noun.

http://www.agiftofpoetry.com/

Footnote:

I did receive some very positive feedback but because of the sensitive nature of the subject, I have chosen not to share it. However, I am pleased to report that *Jane* is still alive and "kicking".

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