As I glance down to my wrists, the blood slowly persists. Then I realized
what I had done, and found out it reall wasn't that fun. As the blood runs
down my arm, I thought it could cause no harm. As I sit alone and cry and
realize that I'm going to die. My life is ending very soon, maybe even by
noon. I shouldv'e said goodbye but now I sit alone and die. I should've
realized the joy in life instead of using that knife. As I grow weaker and
weaker I crawl unto my bed, and wonder why did I wish that I was dead?
 
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