DIE

Breathing death upon this child of hope.
With theese feelings I must cope.
Self image means nothing to me.
I haver theese eyes but i cannot see.
Everything in my head is wrong.
Every road i've walked seemed so long.
My eyes bleed with tears of sorrow.
I pray i dont wake up tomorrow.
All my love has turned to hate.
None of my friends seem to relate.
I can't try to understand life anymore.
I keep getting kicked like a battered down door.
Nothing can ever be alright.
I really wish i was dead tonight.
I want it all to end with one quick click.
In my opinion living makes me sick.

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Phoenix9 commented on DIE

12-24-2008

nicely done,

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

mollywog’s Poems (8)

Title Comments
Title Comments
DIE 1
Sanity check 2
Don't they C? 0
Hello. Is somebody there? Who are you? 1
Whats with that? 0
DO 0
What? 0
PUKE 1

mollywog’s Friends (2)