Lying in his cold bed, <br />He wished for death, <br />To sweep over him. <br />To save him. <br />He wanted to scream, <br />To cry so hard it hurt, <br />To be dramatic. <br />But he couldn't. <br />Instead a small sob, <br />Ached through his soul, <br />And out his battered body. <br />He bit his lip, <br />As hard as he could, <br />Trying to see if he could, <br />Handle Inflicting pain, <br />Upon himself. <br />He wanted to be gone, <br />Melt into the blowing winds, <br />And become a faint whisper of <br />'Do you rememer that boy? , <br />That poor sweet boy? <br />Look what they did to him, <br />Why didnt we save him? ' <br />The blade sits cold, <br />In his shaking hand, <br />It feels unreal. <br />Powerful. <br />Such a small, beautiful object, <br />Holds the answers, <br />To His one question, <br />'Am I good enough to live? ' <br />No. <br />He couldn't live knowing the world, <br />Didn't want to love him back. <br />And like a coward, <br />Took his life, <br />In his family home. <br />Forever lost is the spirit, <br />Of the little boy unloved. <br />Unsaved. <br /> <br />And with that the answer, <br />Became so clear. <br />To ask yourself if you, <br />Have any right to live, <br />Means you answered the question yourself, <br />By finding no worth, <br />To fight for.<br /><br />Chelsea Hansford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/do-i-deserve-to-live/
