Sometimes i cry,
because i wonder why?
why i feel this way,
these life games i hate to play.
sometimes i want it to stop,
i begin to have suicidal thoughts,
my life could be ended,
these feelings not intended,
just a couple of slits,
to my weak wrists,
or a gun cocked back,
set in my mouth and splat.
a ton of sleeping pills,
making the walls spinning wheels,
all could kill me,
give me back and set me free,
but i cant,
all i do is cry and pant,
stuck in this brutal depression,
each day is a new session,
of my pain and anger,
and it all gets stranger,
it's like a never ending head ache,
not much more i can take,
before i do what i want,
my scars uncut,
take away the pain,
leaving the unforgetable stains.
 
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