To santa claus and little sisters

[girl friend]

To Santa Claus and Little Sisters

 

Once,

On yellow paper, with green lines, he wrote a poem,

And called it "Chops",

Because that was the name of his dog,

And that’s what it was all about.

And the teacher gave him an "A"

And a gold star,

And his mother hung it on the kitchen door,

And read it to all his aunts.

That was the year his sister was born,

With tiny toenails and no hair,

And Father Tracy took them to the zoo

And let them sing on the bus.

And his mother and father kissed a lot

And the girl around the corner sent him a Christmas card

Signed with a row of x's.

And his father always tucked him in at night,

And he was always there to do it.

 

Once,

On white paper, with blue lines, he wrote another poem.

And he called it "Autumn"

Because that was the name of a season,

And that’s what it was all about.

And the teacher gave him an "A"

And told him to write more clearly.

And his mother didn’t hang it on the kitchen door

Because the door

Had just been painted.

That was the year his sister got glasses,

With black frames and thick lenses.

And the kids told him why father and mother

Kissed a lot,

And that Father Tracy smoked cigars

And left butts on the pews,

And the girl around the block laughed

When he went to see Santa Claus at Macy’s.

And his father stopped tucking him in bed at night,

And got mad when he cried for him to.

 

Once,

On paper torn from his notebook, he wrote another poem,

And he called it "Question Marked Innocence",

Because that was the name of his grief

And that’s what it was all about.

And the professor gave him an "A"

And a strange and steady look.

And his mother never hung it on the door

Because he never let her see it.

That year he found his sister necking on the back porch

And his parents never kissed, or even smiled.

And he forgot how the end of the "Apostle’s Creed" went,

And Father Tracy died.

And the girl around the block wore too much make-up

That made him cough when he kissed her,

But he kissed her anyway.

 

Once,

At 3 a.m., he tucked himself in bed,

His father snoring soundly.

He tried another poem, on the back of a pack of matches,

And he called it "absolutely nothing"

Because that’s what it was all about.

And he gave himself an "A"

And a slash on each damp wrist,

And hung it on the bathroom door,

Because he couldn’t reach the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just an amazing poem a suicidal young man wrote. Unfortunately he did go through with it and died shortly after mailing this poem off to the Samaritan who had been working with him over the phone. I posted it because although its depressing, its incredible. Suicide is a waste of sheer talent.

[BellaDonna]

It's amazing how this poem has lived on, even though this occurred in the 1960's. Apparently some schools are even using it as part of their curriculum.

 

link removed

[jengh]

wow. i'm usually not into poetry but that one was really touching..and so sad

[Cadence308]

This is a very good poem and very sad. I agree that suicide is a waste of good talent. Some people hurt so much and they think that is their only relief.

[NKP]

OMG i have tears in my eyes, its very sad

[AnotherBrokenDoll]

My gosh what can i say, i'm crying. That was so sad. Suicide is a waste but it doesn't seem like that to the person unfortunately. All they see is the never ending pain. Not the fact that they are truly amazing people who are loved by someone somewhere out there.

[girl friend]

It actually occurred in 1985 i think. I attended a conference given by the Samaritan involved. It was finding out that he had contracted HIV from his gf, which finished the boy off. He had a past of horrific child abuse and neglect, left home at 16 with nowhere to go, ended up living rough. A young person's homeless project found him, things started to look up for him then. Got enroled at college, got a flat, was recognised as talented by his professors, and got a gf. Him and his gf constantly had ups and downs, she herself was from a similar past. Then one day she left him, with a note saying how sorry she was and how guilty she felt. He found out that this was because she was HIV positive and hadn't told him. He took the test and found out that he had contracted HIV. He committed suicide at 22, in the way stated in the poem immediately after mailing off the poem.

[girl friend]

Never fails to affect me each time i read it

[I Miss You]

very touching and very sad..

 

hard to believe that is a true story...

 

at first i thought it was a regular poem

 

until the end....

 

once again girlfriend..you never cease to amaze me...

 

 

very good work hun