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On Friday December 7th, I wrote this poem on my return train journey which had been delayed due to someone throwing themselves in front of an earlier passing train.

This supposedly ‘selfish act’ had inconvenienced passengers who had been held up on their average daily routine. For one man or woman, this was not an average day – it was the hardest or bravest day of their life.

We sometimes regard suicide as self-centred or inconsiderate, but altering another person’s daily routine is the furthest thought from their mind at that precise moment.
“Why didn’t they speak to us?” their nearest and dearest ask . . . . . . but what would you have said?

This poem explores.

What Would You Have Said?
 
Today, I took my life.
Today, I chose to die.
How different would your wording be
if you had seen me cry?

From where I am, I can hear you say
how you wish that I had spoken.
But what would you have said to me
to mend something so broken?
Would you have told me off to put me off,
or to pull myself together? –
“For goodness sake, snap out of it –
you’re only under the weather.”

What would you have said to me
before you judged my action? –
“Think of those you’ll leave behind.
Imagine their reaction.
Think of us, not of yourself.
WE need for you to live.
Although you’re empty of yourself,
WE need you still to give.

Everyone else does Christmas –
you’ll have a good time when you’re here.
You don’t want to be six foot under the  ground,
when you can feel festive cheer.”
 
I didn’t contact you before I was dead.
If I did, what would you have said?
It’s easy for you to say anything
when you can’t see the gun at my head.
It’s easy to tell me this side of life
to whom I should have turned.
Christmas has waited far too long
for Jesus to return.
 
 
Copyright Debra C. Rufini 2018
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