"Blood stain"

89 5 0
                                    

Blood drips from my wrists as I cling to life, I'm getting weaker as I drop this blood stained knife

'So this is how it ends?' I ask my self as the room starts to spin

Run out of purpose and run out of time, I can hear my heart beat faintly with a depressing little rhyme

See life is like a hundred dollar bill, you go out and try to spend every little bit of it as fast as you can as if there's some void in your life that all those items are going to magically fill

And eventually your out of money... Out of time, and the last thing you hear is that faint depressing little rhyme.

Depressing poetryWhere stories live. Discover now