When I’m gone, will you cry?
Will you feel the guilt eat you up inside?
How will you cope?
Remembering all the promises you broke.
Your excuse, “I didn’t know it hurt her that bad.”
The cuts and bruises are enough to make any one go mad.
I don’t do it to myself though,
Its all done at school, not even by a foe.
My so called “friends” laugh as I pick myself up off the floor.
All I want to do is find the door.
End this life,
All of the struggle and the strife.
Why don’t I flee?
I believe what they say about me.
So what’s the point of staying?
I hate the game I’m playing.
So one day soon,
My world will pop like a balloon.
I won’t cry.
But what will you do when I die?
