21.06.2026

Anything that's ever 

Any help at all

Always seems to come too late, 

If, in fact, it comes at all. 

If you call the suicide hotline, 

(As I did, today, 

Here, in Israel, it's called "Eran"

Dial "one-two-oh-one")

You'll hear three rings, 

And then the hold music 

(Ironically, a Shlomoh Artzi 

Song, that's called "Going Home".) 

If you can stand to sit

Through all of that, in your

Moment of distress, 

Finally, a voice answers,

You breathe deep, prepare to speak, 

But then:

"Please leave a message, and we'll call you back 

During our regular hours of operation:

Sunday, through Thursday, 

From 4:00 PM, to 9:00"

And I swear, you won't be 

Able to keep yourself from laughing 

At such absurdity,

And you remind yourself, 

Even if they'd answered, 

What could they possibly do?

I have long maintained 

That "suicide intervention", 

Always seems to focus 

On all the wrong things; 

Stopping someone from dying,

Isn't the same as 

Helping them live.  

Despite what some may say,

Despite that catchy, 

Pop-psych phrase;

Not all problems

At the end of the day,   

Are temporary, 

Regardless, of what they say.