More crappy poetry for suicide..
When the night is draping
and the moon is late
no more plans of escaping
I’ll give into sweet nightmare
When the door is gaping
and I’m needless to wait
it’s somewhere warm and safe
and I won’t need you there.
my heart, the open stream
and it’s running out of dreams
they’re reflected in the blade
and I’ll smile at it’s cold glare.
when the sky has tucked me in
over me her starry warm skin,
nevermore am I to die within 
and I’ll always have your stare
this one’s a tribute to Sara Teasdale’s I shall not care..
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suicide is sweet? that may not be what we think of it. but u’r sweet words make suicide, the idea of dying by own hands a poetic journey in itself.
and nice to see u back to english poetry
think u have simplified u’r words but increased the power it them. think you had developed lot as a poet, the way u convey u’r thoughts.
i dunno who Sara Teasdale is, haven’t yet encountered her works. will check out later btw