A birthday cake,
swallowed by the make
I'm not a good person,
Demons dies with me
They will get released,
A corner shop
with 50 cent pieces,
and the playground
I still feel so *****,

I'm too tired to live.
I'm too tired to live
I'm just so tired and dead,
Abused again and again.....

A whistle won't taught,
or  humble me.
No lamb to be caught
I hide in the trees.
Its the summer heat,
Its always one blessing
when I feel a cool breeze,
and she is cute and a tease,
sneaking with me to a degree,
I'm in love and this is my decree.
We sneak out as your word figuratively
like a ****** tossing and turning in bed,
We'll be long gone by the mind that has said.

She loves me
but not enough
to save me.
Heavenly skies
I wished to be my
anchor someday.
Whistling breeze
offers no relief
from my heart-ache
and my suffering.
Another Groundhog
of a same old life
awaits this stray dog,
and vessels of my heart.
Bursts into red confetti,
like Italian spaghetti.
And you whiff it down
to be happy and **** me.
My idea of happiness,
will be the day of my death.