Darkness, darkness, deep despair,
the way we felt when we were there.
There in that moment of fate,
when we were going to clean the slate.
The slate of life, but with a knife,
we slit and sliced, through pain and strife.
Days gone by, without a hope,
I asked to live, but the knife said nope.
It wedged through skin one last time,
to end the terror,
this life of mine.
YOU ARE READING
The Way We Felt
PoetryA Deep poem from the top of my head. Its not about me so don't worry. (;
