What is the point in going on

When everything is bound to fail

No matter which way I turn

There is no wind in my sail


At every corner is a demon standing

Waiting for me to pass by

With no ill intent just doing business

Loafing until I catch his eye


It makes no difference if I am good

If I have the best intention

I no longer fear the outcome

Knowing it ruins apprehension


I guess there are ways to appease him

Perhaps finding a ditch to lie within

Lying in starvation and squalor

Waiting for death to wade in


There would be no hurry to it

Because that would be a success

And quite out of character

Not making it also a mess


I offer myself to any of your gods

Giving them a last single chance

Because it would prove their existence

My disbelief not to enhance


But I know now it won’t happen

There is no hope for a change

Deus ex machina would counter

This life I wear like a mange


So it is only my fear that holds me

From ending a worthless life

Putting a final solution

To nothing but endless strife


A mind full of sad depression

A body that has no use

Filled with endless grief

Of happiness somewhere loose


A bitter outlook with only death

Looming and smiling ahead

Agreeing the only solution

Is waking up finding me dead.


I cry at the sadness building

But then I cry just as a girl

I couldn’t even get gender right

I might as well give death a whirl


I know that I live with others

Who would suffer at least for a time

Collecting my own share of sadness

Wondering if life has a rhyme


I’m so sad to disappoint them

Lying in a grave out of sight

Giving them my own challenges

Even in death I’m not right


So once again I lean to disappearing

Alive but just out of view

Always leaving them something

Hoping to hear something new


While cowering in a drain tile

Covered with mud and dirt

Knowing my final solution

Also a cause of nothing but hurt


But I don’t see any way out of it

There is no pleasant twist

To disappear out of their lives

With a sweet smelling, obscuring mist.


About Barbara Blackcinder

I am a poet/writer with a hunger for words. There are so many out there that I haven't used yet. They define all reality and especially mine when you read those from me.
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2 Responses to Resolution

  1. Anonymous says:

    Oh Jane, you are every bit as sweet as you deny that you are.

  2. Jane Watson says:

    This is a moving poem about someone who perhaps feels life is no longer worthwhile. What the writer has not factored in however is that the very act of writing such a poem shows how creative they are and how connected they are to the life force. Hope the writer realises they are not as alone as they say….:-) Certainly their muse is listening…otherwise they could not have written such a poem!

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