He had so much left to live for
He had so much left to say
He had so much life in him
That could've maybe made him stay
Yet every day he longed for darkness
And every night he prayed for death
He lay waiting there for hours,
Waiting to breathe his final breath
But when the light just wouldn't leave
His prayer hard to understand
He decided just to do it
To take death into his hand
A silver death that cuts through skin
A silver death that cuts out pain
A metal death that draws out blood
And makes the crimson fall like rain
He took a nervous shaky breath
And with a long and anguished cry
He dug the blade into his skin
And there - on skin - he wrote goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
When they don't understand (poems)
Puisi"We're all in the same game,just different levels.Dealing with the same Hell,just different Devils"~Unknown So no matter what we're all the same in the sense that we have our own problems that we try hard to deal with.Remember,when they don't unders...
