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"LAST POEM"

Let’s see, the reason I’m writing all this down is to help me remember. Yesterday, or was it two days ago - I can’t remember, I drank a whole bottle of flu medicine. Why else, other than to kill myself. Unfortunately it hasn’t. I miscalculated the dosage. Instead, I’m suppose to drink 10 to 15 bottles of it for it to be lethal. How I will obtain that amount as of yet, I haven’t figured out. Maybe I should just stick to the CO² technique I’ve been thinking of using. Now I’m left in a semi zombie like state. I’m not sure if it’s because of the mixture or because of the intense hurt I feel deep inside of me. Unfortunately for me, this pain isn’t a physical pain but an emotional scar (although scar doesn’t even come close to explaining this feeling, I’ll use it for now until I can find a better word). Now, back to reason I’m writing this. To remember. About now, I’m so use to writing long winded suicide letters that by the end of it I find reason not to kill myself. So this time (and most likely the last), I’ll cut to the chase. But since I have a lot to say anyway, I’ll do it in poetry form:

 

I’m a sensitive person,
I’m gay.
I love all my friends,
But no one loves me.
They say that they do,
In the end they’re all the same.
I know it’s my fault I’m like this,
I don’t blame anyone.
But sometime all it takes,
Is a misunderstanding.

Now you may be wondering why,
It’s because I trusted you.
I told you I wasn’t fine,
And that this might happen.
But you didn’t have a clue,
How hurt I was inside.
Like nothing ever happened,
You carelessly played with me.
And that’s what happened,
That’s how you hurt me.

No I wasn’t jealous,
No I wasn’t fine.
If only you cared,
If only you read my mind.
At first it was ok,
I could bare with it.
But then as time went by,
I saw what you were.
You know sometimes,
That’s the problem!
When you have so much pride in yourself,
You can’t care nonetheless.

Like I said,
I’m sensitive.
Maybe if you had been too,
You’d see what I’d do.
But I guess it’s too late,
If you’re reading this.
I guess it’s too late,
Since I am dead.

I don’t know anymore,
If there is a God.
But all I ever wanted from him,
Was love.
Maybe it’s a test,
Just a cruel test.
From the day I was born,
Till the day I die.
At first when I was born,
He took away my mother.
Then he gave them back,
Through another.
But somehow it always seems,
That they’re never around.
I can’t really blame them,
I love none other.
But there’s always this void,
Yearning for more.

So in the end,
That’s all there is to it.
Just wanted to be loved,
Just wanted to be loved.
You said I was blind,
I was surrounded by it.
Maybe you’re right,
Then why this pain?
Saying is one thing,
But meaning it is another.
If only you would try,
If only you tried.

I’m sorry.

 

MAZHAR
26 OCTOBER 2003

 


 

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