The View from Halfway Down Poem (Suicide Conscious Poems)

Poems about suicide are very sensitive in nature, with a very significant level of imagery, the poet must achieve this quality to create a masterpiece. Meanwhile the view from halfway down poem is candidly conscious.

The View from Halfway Down Poem

This collection of poems will tackle problems bothering on depression, suicide, anxiety disorders and emotional instability. To enjoy these poems you must build consciousness into the realities and stories around the suicide history of your immediate eco system;

The View from Halfway Down (the view from halfway down poem)

The View from Halfway Down

The weak breeze whispers nothing

the water screams sublime.

His feet shift, teeter-totter

deep breaths, stand back, it’s time.


Toes untouched the overpass

Soon he’s water-bound.

Eyes locked shut but peek to see

the view from halfway down.


A little wind, a summer sun

a river rich and regal.

A flood of fond endorphins

brings a calm that knows no equal.


You’re flying now, you see things

much more clear than from the ground.

It’s all okay, or it would be

were you not now halfway down.


Thrash to break from gravity

What now could slow the drop?

All I’d give for toes to touch

the safety back at top.

But this is it, the deed is done

Silence drowns the sound.

Before I leaped I should’ve seen

The view from halfway down.

I really should’ve thought about

the view from halfway down.

I wish I could’ve known about

the view from halfway down

By, Alison Tafel

The View from Halfway Down Poem



He was the geeky kid, carrying all of his books,

That became a scientist who found the cure for the disease that overtook.

She was the quiet one, who was afraid no one would listen to what she had to say,

Who is now the author that writes her words for thousands to read on a page.

He was the naughty boy, whose antics were a cry for help,

That became a cop because he knows how it felt.

She was the nervous, anxious girl, who took on everyone’s problems,

That wanted to help others and became a psychologist with a doctorate.

He was the kid that was always in a fight,

Who became a lawyer that wants wrong turned right.

He was the jock that was under pressure to win the game,

Who became a pastor that tells people they are more than what others say.

She was the quirky girl trying to break free from the mold,

That became the fashion designer who is known for being bold.

She was the mean girl with only ugly words to say,

Who is now an advocate for other victims in pain.

But he was the kid that faded into the background,

The one who felt alone even when there was a crowd.

The one who felt like he was gasping for air.

Even though he was drowning; people were unaware.

He was the one whose inner demon had a voice that was too loud,

That told him there was no other way out.

He’s the kid I often think about,

The one whose silence should have been a reverberating volume of sound.

He is the one that we’ll never know what he could have become,

Because he was the kid who found the gun.

By, Jodi M. Kucera

Tears of a Dead Man

The morning sky is colored red with blood.

Meaning that someone died last night.

I wonder why. This morning casts a foul mood.

Something seems off today; this doesn’t feel right.

Was it me that died?

I hear a presence, creeping closer and closer,

Dead silent but clear as day.

He appears before me pale as the moon.

A melancholy look on his face, he speaks.

Another one who just didn’t see

How good your life would have been.

If just for a few years had you waited

Before ending your life you so much hated.

Look at what you had! Lost now forever.

I can’t see why you’re so sad.

You weren’t alone, nor were you too bad

of a person to seek a second chance.

It’s clear now I made a mistake unthinkable.

Wasted my life with a knife.

It seemed then so unbearable,

But now I’m even more miserable.

Last tears of a dying man.

Another one who just didn’t see

How good his life would have been.

If just for a few years had he waited

Before ending his life he so much hated.

It’s clear now he made a mistake unthinkable.

Wasted his life with a knife.

It seemed then so unbearable,

But now he’s ever so miserable.

Last tears of a dead man!

By, Vili P. Lahtinen



After You’re Gone (the View from Halfway Down Poem)

I want to paint a picture;

it’s a scene that you should see.

If you decide to end your life,

what becomes of your family?


First, someone has to find you.

It will be a haunting sight,

Filled with panic and hysteria,

Screaming out in fright.


Maybe they will find you

Before you’re actually dead.

Instead of going to the morgue,

A hospital instead.


To the tiny hope that you’ll survive,

They’ll cling with all their might

Until a doctor tells them sorrowfully

You won’t make it through the night.


The next few days will be a blur.

A funeral is planned,

People come from out of town,

Neighbors lend a hand.


The house is full of people

To console your mom and dad.

Your little sister sits alone,

Feeling lost, confused, and sad.


But then the house gets quiet,

After everyone has gone,

They’ll try to fill the silence,

Find a way to carry on.


They’ll do their best to live their life,

The way it was before.

They’ll eat their dinners at the table,

But there’s no talking anymore.


Soon your parents will start fighting.

Their marriage begins to wilt.

They’ll cast blame upon each other,

Yet be consumed with their own guilt.


Your sister will feel lonely,

As your parents try to cope.

She wants to be a family,

But she’s starting to lose hope.


Fast forward two years down the road,

Your sister’s skipping class,

Your father looks for comfort

In the bottom of a glass.


Your mom uses medication

To try and ease her pain.

Pops pills by the handful,

She will never be the same.


A house once filled with love and laughter,

Feels cold and dark and sad.

Your sister’s full of anger

Because you took her mom and dad.


Soon your dad stops coming home at night,

Your mom leaves her room no more.

Your sister’s desperate cries for help

Are unheard behind closed doors.


Then your sister gives up fighting,

Can no longer stand the strife.

If only you were there,

You could probably save her life.


Your family now is shattered,

And it started all with you.

The loss of 1 child crushed them,

And now they have lost 2.


So before deciding to end your life,

I hope that you can see

The tragic ending of your family

Is what will come to be.


You see a family is like a puzzle,

An imperfect piece of art.

If you start removing pieces,

Soon the whole thing falls apart.


But this picture that I’ve painted,

Full of darkness, death, and dread,

Still has a chance to replaced

With a happy one instead.


There are people who will help you,

You just have to use your voice.

At least give them a chance,

Before you make a deadly choice.

By, Shelby N. Merchen

In conclusion, Suicide has become a very rampant subject matter, especially amongst young people, as poets it is our duty to take this advocacy seriously by encouraging these victims with our poems.

Daily Time Poems.

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