Life and Death

I used to smile without an effort.

I used to be one of those people

that could smirk in the face of despair.

One of those people who could

make others smile when there

seemed to be nowhere to turn.

"How can you be so bloody happy all the time?"

people would ask me.

"Consider the alternative"

was my stock-standard reply.

I would say that,

never actually contemplating the alternative.

Well, now I feel as though I have no choice

but to be unhappy.

My smile has gone,

too much effort.

Reclusive.

Dead.

When I used to be in the pit

it was never any trouble to climb out.

Sometimes I would struggle

but would always make it out

with barely a puffed breath.

This time is different though.

I am at the bottom of the pit.

It's dark and it's lonely.

I would have thought that if

I ever fell hard there would be a plethora

of hands on the ready

to reach down and help me out.

I’m at the bottom now

It is very deep this time.

At the bottom there seems to be

no hands on the reach.

People seem content to shout from the top.

"What are you doing down there?"

"You silly boy, how could you let that happen?"

"While you're in the pit,

you're making everyone else unhappy up here"

"So stop being so selfish".

I am tired from the beatings.

I cannot climb anymore.

I am weak.

I am giving in.

You people win.

"My wrists are tied

with bloodied rope" I cried

though everyone's near me

they're too self-obsessed to hear me

Everyone, it's been a while now

but you can all smile now

I give again without taking

I will now sleep without waking

As long as everyone else is fine

What does it matter if I whine?

To smile takes every breath of me

My life will be the death of me