WARNING: The following poem is of a depressing and suicidal nature. It may be triggering to those in a fragile emotional state. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY FEELING SUICIDAL. ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: This is just a poem. It is not a threat of suicide or a cry for help. I do not condone suicide or self harm, and I am not currently feeling suicidal. This is a work of fiction based on thoughts and feelings I have had in the past. It is NOT AN INDICATION OF HOW I CURRENTLY FEEL. Please save your sympathies for those who presently need it more than I. I repeat, THIS IS JUST A POEM. It is not a happy poem. It is not meant to make the reader feel good. Please do not censor or remove this poem. It is simply a creative, though admittedly less than stellar quality literary expression, meant to be a cathartic means of releasing pent up thoughts and emotions I have experienced. I apologize in advance for any negative feelings this poem might inspire in sensitive individuals. See above trigger warning. Thank you in advance for your understanding. COLD By The Lone Wolf It's funny how things so dark and so cold, Can make one feel so warm and bold; A chilled stiff drink, a winter's night, A swim in cold water, a good fist fight; The feel of cool steel against my face, Planning out the time and place... Park the car, turn off my phone, Wander out into the woods alone. Silence, besides my footsteps in the snow, Which will soon be covered, no one will know That I came here to end my pain, To never have to feel again. No one to stop me, no one to grieve; Pack up my dreams, it's time to leave. A bottle of whiskey, a loaded piece, A comfortable place to die in peace. I once longed for a happy life, A successful job, a beautiful wife; But these things were never meant to be, At least not for the likes of me. Maybe it's just the way I'm wired; It's been too long, and I grow tired Of waiting for things that don't exist. At least I know that I won't be missed.