Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Johnny Mitchell Oct 2017
Once good, thrice dead.
You think you would, yet go to bed.
It seems far from sane,
That you wont be tame.
Your thoughts are too loud,
And you are so far from proud.
Listen to the silence.
It mocks you, and it shocks you.
They beckon you, their voices, their presence.
What if it turns out to be true?
Were you ever alive?
Did you ever really try?
Is it just another lie?
Or will you really die tonight?
To many times you've cried,
Trying so hard to be someone that might mean something to your loved ones.
You say to me, "One more day? I don't know if I've got one..."
Well please dont be here, or anywhere near, if the life you live will be to your throat a painful shiv.
Ill stand here and demand,
More of this chore,
Of a life you call a bore...
Difficult night with suicidal ideation. Writing this to distract myself.
Johnny Mitchell Oct 2017
Mom
People come, people go
But for the ones that show
That they were meant to be
Apart of your life, you'll see
As the days go by
Though some stand the test of time
It's always the mothers
Not often the others
Who let you know
You are worth more than gold

Sometimes they fret
Rarely for no consequence
And sometimes give you hell for it
But in the end
They will always be your friend
Tell you what you need to know
Where you need to go
And how much you've grown
They always seem to show
When you don't know how to cope
How to be more than gold

Fathers are always good too
But it's the mothers who stand true
When you feel at your worst
To others a curse
She tells you the truth
That not even gold amounts too

How much she loves you...
Wrote this for my moms birthday this year. She thought I got it off the internet XD

— The End —