The Day I Didn't Die.

On the day I woke up, I did not know,
That, that would be the day, I ended my woe,
I carried on as normal, going about my day,
Acting in my normal, unconventional way,

Until something clicked, something changed,
My path for the day, I altered as if deranged,
I reinstated my plan from the last Saturday,
I was to say my goodbyes, to drown my troubles away,

A bottle of vodka, whiskey, and two of gin,
Along with the pills, the powders, I took it all in,
Some music soothed me as my cocktail took its effect,
I discover the end tastes of lemon and a bitterness I detect,

I look to the window to see where they may grow,
To see only my friends staring in horror, in sorrow,
They scream, they bang, they want me to stop,
Swallowing the pills I have chosen to pop,

But it is too late, I am too far gone to care,
I carry on, I continue, just letting them stare,
By now I feel tired, I only want to rest,
So I lay, I am sick, I go, sleep my best,

I hear the music I cant remember, loud and clear,
Then everything goes dark, the tunes become queer,
So now I am dead, my existence is ended,
But then there is cruel light, my name being sounded,

I awake to hear sounds of machines, they are beeping,
And see the sight of my family around me, they are weeping,
For I have not yet succeeded in my attempt of escape,
From this dire world of suffering, pain, and of hate,

When I can speak, they ask me the question, 'why?'
Why it was that I wanted to die,
This is a question to which I have no real explanation,
No simple answer, no easy causation,

So I sit in my room in deep and great wonder,
The prospect of betterness I have to ponder,
This is no poetic story, no fictitious lie,
This is the true tale of the day I didn't die.