I saw me once in pastures of green
Stones peaking up, face to face with me.
I read the name and the writting below,
And I finally found out, what I had already known.

"Here lies me, a faithful friend with open arms.
Taking in each victim, of Misery's charm.
He never said no, or refused to hear,
What all had to say, when no one was near.
And he cried for them, and shared thier tears.
He'd hold them close, to fight off thier fears.
And he loved her so, oh so much.
That when she left, his heart was as such,
A broken bottle whos blood flowed free.
Here lies a broken man, without joy nor glee."

As I read these words I knew at once.
That my days of pain had turned to months.
And now was the time, when I'd start brand new.
Living my life, as best as I knew.
Forgetting the hurt and suffering I had.
Holding on to joy, and releasing the sad.
I have spent my whole life listening to you,
It's time for me to listen to me too.

When suddenly I fell, as I tripped on the grave.
The walls around me, smashing my brave.
Smelling the earth, which was now my home.
Surrounding me whole, as I lay there prone.
This realisation of bliss is a day too late.
If only I hadn't lived with such perfect hate.

Hating myself for never moving on,
Hating her for leaving, please just be gone.
Feeling comfort in pain which maddened my brain.
This was my story, but the Hero was slain.
Slain by his past, and haunted by his lies.
He swallowed the pills, which caused him to die.

"Isn't this Ironic?" I asked out loud.
Yet no one replied, in my musky earthen shroud.
So I bit my lip, and held my tounge.
I can't believe I did this, and I still so young.
To end my life at such an early age.
I flipped the paper, right to the next page.
But here my story ended, much to my surprise.
I found the end of the story, and it's time to revise.
 
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