Ananda

I wrote this poem when I was 14. The only way anything made sense was to write it down. I found it the other day, and while I loved the ideas in it, I cringed at the way I expressed them, so I edited it to make it a bit more coherent. There are only a few parts of my life where terrible things like this have happened. They are, of course, saddening, but hopefully the experiences have helped me along my way, along with those whom I experienced them with.

On my thirteenth birthday,
It was getting late, I’d blown out candles,
I’d eaten cake.

I got a phone call
From my friend
Telling me it was her life she wanted to end.
I snuck out the house
And later lied
“I was asleep in bed,
not by her side.”

I held her tight
And took the blade
I made a wish,
And later prayed.

Let this child live another day,
No one’s life should be this way.

It was Christmas Eve 2011
When my friend tried to get to heaven.
I got a phone call,
She was drunk and alone,
With a bottle of vodka and her mobile phone.

I tracked her down,
She was battered and bruised,
It was plain to see she was scared and confused.

I sung a song
And took her hand,
I picked her up
And helped her stand.

While years have pasts,
I still lie awake,
In fear her life she’ll want to take.

So tell your loved ones that you care,
Because sometimes life just isn’t fair.

♦