there's something wrong with death today
it seems to be something for which people pray
the kids don't want to stick around
everybody wants to go underground
time's up, my problems are only getting bigger
nothing's gonna stop me from pulling this trigger
you can't say anything to make me stay
so please just go the fuck away
she bites her lip and winks at all the guys
but underneath her skinny jeans lies a terrible surprise
for secretly she dreams to die
and has even had the guts to try
people don't want life, yet this is still called the present
the past is long gone, and the future looks unpleasant
my crystal ball is telling me that death is far away
but i wish it would change its prophecy, it's really not okay
goodnight, you might find me somewhere
sorry i couldn't go with my usual flair
i'll scream across the rooftops my last pained goodbyes
until finally i'm allowed to just close my goddamn eyes
YOU ARE READING
A Little Thing Called Death
Poezjai won't explain many of these. they are for you to work out and they'll probably mean something different to everyone. (i own these poems) ((FINISHED.))
