Death Be Not Proud
by John Donne
(1572-1631)
DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
2007-03-17 11:41:51
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answer #1
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answered by Persiphone_Hellecat 7
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Suicide by Ambrose Taylor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/suicide/
2007-03-17 15:31:21
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answer #2
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answered by Anonymous
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Richard Cory
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich—yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
Edwin Arlington Robinson
2007-03-18 01:01:10
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answer #3
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answered by Berta 3
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Down Again
by Jenna
I've been pushed down so many times
I feel this time will be the last
as I lay here fading
my thoughts are invaded by memories of my past
I feel the pressures of shame and rejection building
as I lay here on the floor
I have no strength to get up
I'm not worth it any more
2007-03-17 22:58:11
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answer #4
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answered by Chipilona 6
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Here's one I've always liked:
"Resume
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live."
-- Dorothy Parker
2007-03-17 15:44:14
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answer #5
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answered by johnslat 7
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Suicide is a scape.Scape is shame. Shame is pain.Pain is hard.....you break my hart.
2007-03-17 16:04:26
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answer #6
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answered by man 2
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