Sort Of Depressing Poetry

Going, Going, Gone.

Cobwebs Behind your eyes

And in your mind

You're trying to hide

There's nothing inside

But they're not dumb

They see you're numb

In your brain

There once was pain

You say you're alright

But the scars on your wrist

Say you aren't fine

You can't hold on much longer

It all crashes like thunder

Fight the black

Fight the panic

Take my hand

You need a medic

Fight until the dark takes over

Going, Going

Gone

S.M.