The Poet's Eye

God help me

My parents are blind, they can't see any of the pain that they really cause me. God help me.
My friends can't see them, the scars on my skin, made with a razor ever so thin.
God help me.
My siblings don't know me, the struggles I face. All they can see is a smiling case.
God help me.
My teacher just think I'm a daft fool but little did they know that I'm a demons tool.
God help me.
My pillow is smeared with the remains of my tears that have been collected all through the years.
God help me.
My mind knows the plans I once had. To end my life or to make it grand.
God help me.
So here I stand as a broken man, waiting for an answer, waiting for that final call. The call to start or end it all.
God. Help. Me.