Strength in Weakness

A young girl has to accept her grandmothers suicide and in doing so, it makes her stronger.

This is my entry for 'The Big Poetry Competition', so please comment and like the poem! Thank you.


1. Strength In Weakness

I was 6 and she was 49

But that doesn't matter,

Age wasn’t on her mind.

When she opened her eyes

The sky was luminous green

And the blades of grass were a deep purple,

All vision was serene.

She wasn’t a revolutionist,

She just let the brush move her

And if you cleared away the mist

She considered you true to her.


You see she had magic in her fingertips

And wonder in her eyes

Freedom in her spirit

And darkness in her mind.

They decided this combination was deadly

Yet her soul was not doomed

For she believed in heaven

And this would see her through.


She was a flower of rarity,

Golden petals forever in bloom

But her stem was crooked,

Leaves that cast shadows of doom.

For there was poison in her roots

That nobody could trace,

Truth in her madness

That nobody could face.


I didn’t understand her at the time

Schizophrenia is a complex state of mind.

Instead I just gazed with a child-like curiosity,

Terrified and hopeful that I would remember what she means to me.


But how can you capture a moment

When do you know when to press,

The little silver button

That glorifies the mess.

I must not blame myself

For the emptiness I feel,

And I will never blame her

For a health that would not heal.


Yet I can’t erase that night

When her shaking lips couldn’t utter a sound,

Slave to the mind she used to love so much

A lost spirit to be found.

I missed her voice that night

The one that wanted to scream help,

Yet her magic fingertips closed her eyes shut

And silence was her final yelp.


I guess that’s where I get my silence from,

The silence that fills the room.

I’m sure that’s where I got my voice my from,

A light that seeps through the gloom

And I’m not angry at what she did

Because her dying eyes made their choice

Besides, what is freedom

When you don’t have a voice?


So I speak for her now

And I hope I do her justice.

My granny that died at 49

And I hope that you can trust this,

I don’t require any pity

And I don’t want you to feel fear

I want you to stand up

And make your throat clear.

Because there comes a time in our lives

Where we feel afraid

And those are the times,

We question the choices we’ve made.


A smile curled her lips

In that one final fall,

Like a baby finally standing

And refusing to crawl.

Let her silence speak volumes

For her voice we cannot hear,

She told us to trust our hearts

And let go of the fear.

To feel no regret

When his hands welcome death,

We must ease out the grief

In every mournful breath.

Scared, we may be

And helpless we may feel

But the pain is your proof

That you are human, that you are real.


For a corpse is wasted

If it’s spirit is not free,

So find the courage that’s in your heart

Or the faith that’s in your knee.

Because we all have the strength

To grow from weakness,

We all have the ability

To live when we die.

So fill your lungs

With the air that we share

And don’t be afraid

To love, if you dare.


Whatever has hurt you, love, drugs or suicide,

Find strength in your feet

Straighten your legs in pride

Because you are here today

You have fought your fight

And there’s no need for violence

When we unite.

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