rebel

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I Peirce my tongue, nose and Lip,

And litter my skin with colerful ink.

My rebelious acts disguise my pain,

Encouraging the fact that I'm already insane.

I cant help but get into trouble,

It's not my fault I'm such a rebel.

My dangerous stunts risk my existence,

I'd leave this world with no resistance.

I have no plans for the future ahead of me,

Pain, sorrow and depression is all I see.

My past is filled with dark, gruesome nightmares,

And my present is a series of challenges and dares.

And like we have already discussed,

My future is a maybe, not a must.

I want out of this world, out of life,

But I don't know how, maybe the knife?

There's also the pills, but would it be fast?

I don't want my suffering end to last.

The gun would be easy and quick..

Yes, of course, that'll do the trick!

The gun to my head and my mouth to a smile,

I'll have out of life in just a short while.

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