The Ghosts of my past.

January 18th, 2009-The World Has Given Up.

When the world has given up on you,

Who do you run to?

You raise the knife to your skin..

But this, you cannot do.

Your nerves are rising.

Will today, be the day?

You cry a single teardrop;

And push the knife away.

Your life is full of pain and sorrow.

Of plain old misery.

You look at smiling people..

Something you can never be.

You’ll never feel the happiness;

The gladness, or the smile.

So I guess sitting tight is best;

At least, for a little while.