He's a dark angel. His world is filled with monsters and demons. He wares dark clothes and listens to metal. He's the shadow in the background calling for help. His world is crashing down. His feelings are mixed. He feels a churning in his stomach, a tear rolls down his cheek. It's time to draw he says in his head. He locks the door, grabs the razor, cuts his legs and wrists. Blood surrounds him on the ground. He wrote the note slid it under the door, got the gun loaded and ended his pain right there. He's a dark angel.
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Dark angel
RandomA poem on depression. Everyone has demons inside of them. Some people can't fight back the demons take over them. Some get over it.
