Suicide

Death never notifies of it’s coming

There’s no prior info as to it’s visiting

No time to prep up our homes before leaving

Never to return,

Never to see the faces we once and always loved

But how be it so,

That sometimes we make the call

We become the alarm that sounds the urge for demise,

Death is no reminder of it’s coming

And we are seldom notified either

But sometimes we put the call through

And set the date for our meeting

photocredit- @human.edge