Would you rather be dead

By Rishabh Mehta

Would you rather be dead?

As I lay breathing heavily

In a dim room

On a creaky bed


And the nurse asks me again

Would you rather be dead


She reminds me

Of someone I knew not long ago

Someone who left 

Without a note, a trace 

Like a feather in the snow

I was bereft


Of myself

Of my will

To live

Or breathe

Or still

Realise as time went by

And the birds didn’t fly

The weather didnt change

And there was nothing strange

About it

We had something special

And I couldn’t see without it

Not my present Not my future

Only a past and that was a torture


The happy memories give you smiles

They also give you sleepless nights

By not being anymore

It’s a lovers folklore


Would you rather be dead

The nurse shakes my bed

Shows me the bottle of poison I couldn’t drink all of


Almost grudgingly 

Throws it in the bin

Smacks her lips

Nods her head


And asks my stone eyes again

Would you rather be dead


  • Hey Rishabh,

    Nice poetry. I like the piece where you write
    “I was bereft
    Of myself
    Of my will
    To live
    Or breathe
    Or still”

    In the short but powerful lines, you create a rhythm and there is a desperation in it that comes forward.
    Nice work.


    Sanya Goyal
  • I can’t describe in words, what I felt. The way you express, each and every single word touched my heart.
    Amazing work. Good luck!!?

    Chitpara Vashishtha
  • I won’t die to-day for the dice is still at the wheel.

  • The pain of the past.. “would you rather be dead” very nicely portrayed..

  • Beautifully written. Loved it! :)

    Divya Mondal

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