The torture of it all

One day came and a child was born
He grew older and became hurt and
Torn
Abused and ignored
Betrayed and humiliated
Would nothing go right for this Child of Darkness
I don't mean to call this thing a Supernatural being
It's perfectly human just treated
Nasty and mean
The child's life was limited
By saying that I mean it could not Leave the house that much
It lived in darkness and small Spaces to roam
His eyes were blue
His hair was black
His skin so pale
Body so thin
He was treated badly
Not with kindness or forgiveness
He cried
And he cried
And the world seemed so loveless
He has scars
A limited education
So many secrets to bare
So much pain kept inside
But what name shall we give this Child
This Child of Darkness
A name shall not be given
We shall ponder him fondly in our Minds
Be hurt by just the thought of his Meaningless life
But what would it be like to get
Inside his mind
Some things are meant to be kept Secret
Some pain we will never know
We aren't meant to know
But somehow he is
He was born to be raised in a Hellish like place
A place with no love
It's just a place
Not Heaven
Nor Hell
Is there a true Hell
Or a true Heaven
If his life wasn't Hell no mortal
Or just anything should go through It
It's too much to go through
His life wasn't good
His death was painful
Do you wish to know how
It's sad and quite grotesque
He was in the basement taking
The torture of not being fed again
He had another scar to tend to
One on his arm
Someone lost their temper and
Hurt him real bad while preparing a Meal for everyone but himself
He got a cut
It hurt him so
But he wanted to feel more pain
He wanted to see more blood
He wanted everything to go on and Continue just so his heart could Stop
He wanted to be stabbed once more
But this time in his chest
Or stomach
Or anything that could kill him
Slit his throat if you dare there is
No reason to live
He looked around for something to Play with
He never did have any real toys
There was a shovel
A spoon
A chair
Boxes and furniture
He wanted something he could Work with
There was a Beebe gun
It was the closest thing
He knew it wouldn't kill him though
So his quest for death continued
Then he found something
It would be a painful and scary
Death he knew
Something people wouldn't want to Look at or examine when they would Find him
But he knew he just had to do it
To get out of this Hell and return
To another
So he picked it up
Pulled the string
And the horrible sound of the
Chain saw
I think you get the rest of the story
This is now
The End

Wow what an uplifting poem. If you liked this suicide poem you might like...: Ha ha you're dead, Here I am, Invisable in life and death, Happy birthday depressed, To my beloved self, Blank, Final bow, One white line, and many more of my suicide poems. Look in my favorites for my absolute best poems and be sure to look at my other poems too and look at the titles. The more patheticly sad the title sounds the more likely it's a suicide poem. See ya.