Given derivatives,
Never an answer from me.
Hidden suicide notes,
You know where to look.
Not in my journal,
There's nothing but dreams,
Naked aspirations,
A place where they die.
Dying was easy,
Suffering was harder.
Each minute passed,
Yearning to leave grew faster.
Life seemed useless,
Pathetically so.
Hatred manifested,
I was ready to leave.
The morning it happened,
Birds flew and sung.
They headed east,
Where people become plastic
And dreams archived.
