Sample of My Poetry

This is something I wrote right after someone my son knew committed suicide. This hit home for both of us because I also had a friend, several years ago, that committed suicide leaving behind three beautiful children


As Seen Through His Eyes

Soundly and snuggly he sleeps in his bed,
Not a care in the world, not a worry in his thoughts.
His dreams take him on wonderful and exciting adventures that
No waking hours can duplicate.

Signs of worry, about grades, games, and girls
--especially about girls…always about girls—
Not visible on his peaceful, angelic, sleeping face.

Days seem so long; worry waiting around every corner,
and anxiety stalking every movement from the dark shadows
of his mind.

Carefree moments are elusive and sporadic,
while confusion has no problem
mimicking his every move.

In his dreams, he can be the perfect student, athlete, or boyfriend.
He can say the perfect thing and be the perfect child.
Always striving to be perfect but,
In his eyes…….always falling short.

The light of day slowly creeps in through the blinds…waking him,
thrusting him into another day filled with uncertainties….
anxieties…..
confusion…..
doubt…..
and fears.

He hears the words of reassurance from his friends,
sees the expressions of love on his families face,
feels the warmth of his parents arms wrapped tight around him,
yet it is not enough to keep him safe…..it is never enough.

Doubt is strong but fear is stronger.

Slowly and methodically, doubt wiggles its way in…
between loves caring arms and his fragile sense of self worth.
It infects the goodness that cocoons his soul and slowly loosens loves hold….
Making room for fear to barge in.

Fear grabs hold with both hands and squeezes with all its might.
It suffocates every good thing in its path;
every loving moment,
every happy thought,
every caring touch.

It leaves behind only emptiness, and a sorrow so deep,
No amount of love can repair it.

The good things won’t go down without a fight.
Loving moments cling to his heart,
Happy thoughts swim in his memory,
Caring touches linger on his soul.

Fear marches on, squeezing tighter as it goes.

Eventually…….
Loving moments lose their grip and plunge to the earth in his tears,
Happy thoughts lose their grip and wander, disoriented, in a fog of confusion,
Caring touches lose their grip and cool; as fear’s cold breathe breathes down its neck.

Finally all that is left is just a hint of doubt; fanning fears flames.
Doubt that he is good enough, smart enough, loved enough….
Fear that he never will be.

The crossroad is now visible and his choices are clear.

One last chance to choose the right path
One last chance to choose the wrong path
And without asking for help…..he chooses.

Everyone left behind now lives with his choice,
Following a path they did not choose.