Doubt

Humanity reasons
no one wants to
hear your complaints.
Console yourself, look to potential;
the elevation of the human spirit.

Everyone
feels weighted down
by the unjust world. You're
not alone in grief
just alone in the cosmos.

You, sitting there,
nursing your pain
allowing it to grow,
consuming your all
whitewashing your highly evolved state.

You never turn to God,
for you know; reason,
that He is not there.

However, a growing emptiness
cannot be filled
by your work, art,
education. You've tried.

Suicide calls softly,
desiring to hold your hand.
Hastily you reach out.
Why not end it?
It's a matter of choice, and decided.

He watches you,
knowing before the knife crosses
your precious wrist, that you've
made your decision,
knowing before even you.

Miss Grace comes to mind,
as the cold steel blade touches your
hot skin, stalling your determination.

How much did he love you?
She is wearing a blue suit,
hair drawn into a pony tail.
He loved you this much.

Her eyes smile warmly into yours.
She opens her arms,
and hangs herself on an imaginary cross.