Sometimes I wonder what it's like
To cut my wrist with your favoured knife
Let it glide smooth as a flood
Crimson flows, the colour of blood.
Or what it's like to stop the ills
By swallowing down a ton of pills
Would I sit and wonder why
Could I just wait to die?
Thoughts like this have no rhyme or reason
They come and go in every season
Sometimes happy, others sad
Isn't it enough to drive you mad?
We are but broken toys
Crying our pain without any noise
Ghosts in the night paying the tolls
Invisible, bruised, broken souls.
Wandering aimlessly, alone in our fight
With few to ask, "Are you alright?"
Our answer's the same every time
With a fake smile we reply "I'm fine."
Nobody cares that we're dying inside
Or for the many times we've tried
To fit in, to conform, to belong
We're forever getting it wrong.
Bullied, beaten, left behind, forgotten
When did the world become so rotten?
In the end all we have are silent cries
And one final, forever...goodbye.
