Your life is torture, being alive burns your skin,
You cannot find the power within,
To recover from all this sin,
This to you, is the end,
No family or friends,
Nothing to show ever again,
So you grab this sharpened sparkled knife,
Preparing to end your life,
Crying watching yourself in the mirror,
No longer are there any cheerers,
To push you forward and give you hope,
You turned to drugs such as dope,
Now to intoxicated to do anything sane,
You let this addiction absorb your brain,
And the thoughts that are now clouded and blackened by
rain,
For all of the shame,
And life as a game,
You feel so much excrutiating unbearable pain,
You are sick of this life, this abuse, this violence,
The knife touches your throat....all that is left...is
silence.