I have faced suicide before myself, and each time I do, I come out a little stronger and wiser than before. Life is precious, and death is certain. There is no coming back.
It is my belief that depression is a disease, and in this year of the virus, the rise in suicidal statistics will reach the highest numbers seen In a long time, if ever.
In the United States and worldwide, the mental strain from people trying to find a means to an end leads to unspeakable and irreversible actions.
The suicide statistics are scary, and the images are haunting. The high death rate in people of all ages and races demands an intervention. Together we can all rise above the statistics when we take the proper actions and save a life. That is why I wrote this next piece called The Bridge. There are so many people that jump off bridges each year. Knowing they feel alone and backed into that only option is sad and hurts. If you or someone you know is feeling suicidal, please seek help in your location.
The Bridge
I was driving through the mountains on a long and winding ridge,
that's when I saw her standing there alone upon that bridge.
I parked my car right next to hers and walked that narrow trail,
then came upon that bridge that seemed to me was all too frail.
The wood was old and crumbled, and the rope was worn and frayed,
and every time the wind would gust, that bridge beneath her swayed.
She had a blank look on her face and sadness in her eyes,
her hair was loose and flowing as it beat against the skies.
She tightly gripped the ropes between her nimble little hands;
this child of God was lost that day she took her final stand.
I had to fight the fear inside and walk that wooden path,
and every time that wind picked up my breath let out a gasp.
She told me don't come closer, or I'll jump and surely die,
I told her I'd jump with her, and that made her start to cry.
Why would you do that? She said in shock and rigid as a stone.
Because my friend, it is my belief no one should die alone.
Her knees began to tremble, and her breath began to quake;
the wind died down, the bridge lay still, except a gentle shake.
I slowly took one final step and reached out for her hand,
then led her back to safety as we reached the solid land.
I sat with her for hours as she talked about her pain,
the failures and shortcomings that would never leave her brain.
I told her that she's not alone, and we must all survive,
the hardships and those pains in life that make us want to die.
It only makes us stronger in our heart when we forgive,
the tears, like water, feed our soul and teach us how to live.
Embrace that pain, stand tall and firm, be happy your alive,
someday that strength you find may help somebody else survive.
I lifted up my sleeves and showed her scars upon my wrist,
from the day I faced my own life, when I nearly lost my grip.
The tear fell from my face this time, I looked into her eyes,
that day returned, the pain, the hurt, and now I realized.
The choices that we make in life are bigger than we see,
and all that pain we each must face will shape our destiny.
A smile formed upon her face and now she understands,
the path in life that she will choose is always in her hands.
She kissed me on the fore
head then I watched her drive away,
my mind and heart still racing from the fear I faced that day.
I never will forget her or that long and winding ridge,
our destinies crossed paths that day,
standing lost upon that bridge.
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