I have some voices in my head,
And all of them want me dead.
They help me up,
But drag me down.
They give me scars,
And make me frown.
They come to me all the time,
And often speak to me in rhyme.
They tell me I'm not loved or needed,
And stayed with me until I pleaded.
They want me dead
And not alive.
They want me dead,
So I won't survive.
YOU ARE READING
The song of the unfortunates
PoesiaA collection of poems about lots of different matters.