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Poem about those little things, that could stop you from going

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When people have thought about suicide, they often say it was just the little things that held them back. Not much really. Not alone anyway. But when you put them all together like this… POWER! These are the things I know I’d miss the most. And if you’ve never experienced any of the below, well then, you’re in for a treat, should you chose to stick around.



The Playfulness of Life


Intuitive wisdom

Making your friends laugh.

Bright and beautiful birds, with perfect little wings

The taste of blood in your mouth during a

real good sports practice.

Adrenaline rush

Tears of joy.


Watching your dreams come true before your eyes.

Having kids

Seeing your newly-born son’s face for the first time,

and realising that he’s inherited your eyes.

Being that perfect family for brief moments.

That family that other families look upon with envy

At how perfect you got it.

Those kodak moments

At the zoo

at the park

at the cinema.

Looking forward to your photos being developed.

Taking your kids to your favourite childhood place.

beautiful children.

A place to call home.


Making your friends laugh.

Laughing ‘til your sides hurt.

‘Til you can barely breath.

Slumber parties.

Trying to crash 16 people on the floor of a student’s



Visual illusions


The rush of winning a match

Or even of losing, with style.

Team work.





The dawn chorus


Starry skies

Realising finally why you are here.

Realising that someone loves you.


Reading something and thinking:

“that’s gonna change my life.”

Realising that the universe is completely one.

Making a difference to someone, somewhere.


The shining of sun light on glistening waters.

Torchlit walks at night


Knowing something that no-one else in the room knows.



The colour yellow





Power walking.

Your phone going off in a meeting

Laughing, lest you should cry


Working through the night, and sleeping through the day.

The satisfaction of turning in a difficult piece of work,

knowing that you put all your all into it.

Your first theory.

Being published

Post-ick notes


Waking up in a morning next to your lover and feeling

Completely vulnerable.

Because you’ve never dared

love anyone so much.



Infallible mystery

Sometimes accessible through your writing.

Or through your dreams.




The love of life

The beauty of nature

The Sound of Music


A comfy lie-in bed.

The feeling of awakeness after a good nights sleep.

Tousled heads.

The light and bouncy feeling in your hair after

a refreshing long shower.

Nearly falling asleep in the bath.


Seeing something that you only ever saw in textbooks before.

The Grand Canyon

Travelling abroad



True friendship.

Deep and meaningful conversations

Realising you know something about another,

that no-one else has ever known.

Having a great time,

doing nothing.




Snowball fights

Water fights

Food fights


Blond jokes


Playing hide and seek in your 40’s.

Riding bikes

Rope climbing

Bouncing Castles


Changing your mind about a rollercoaster,

just before the dip

The playfulness of life

Reading a good new novel


Long kisses

The beach

Pineapple juice



A Perfect Day

Coffee and hash browns

The perfect way to start off

A perfect day

Realising that life is good.


Christmas trees

Sending Christmas cards to nearly forgotten ghosts,

of the past.



Picking yourself up after a heartbreak

And realising that it is still a beautiful world

For a world full of:



Meadows, full of sweet smelling grass of many colours.

Fields laden with buttercups.

Could be nothing else.


Seeing that it is true,

Heaven and paradise are in the present moment.


Deep, wise words

Spoken, by deep wise theologians of the past.


Re-living your childhood with your kids.

And then again with your grandkids.


Listening to the radio

Sitting outsides,

on a hot summers day

Sitting outsides on a hot summers day listening to the radio.

Eating ice cream


Realising that a half empty/half full glass doesn’t

properly explain it, the glass is positively





This poem is dedicated to Annie

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Incredible, stunning, brilliant... I can't find the words.


The taste of blood in your mouth during a

real good sports practice


The rush of winning a match

Or even of losing, with style


Tousled heads


Creative Writing teachers of the future should have their classes study this poem. I know one who might.


I laugh at the uncanny beauty of it, lest I should cry.

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