This was a poem about suicide
Now it is dead

Each day you made me stronger,
You made my sessions last a little longer,
You made me feel true greatness,
And it was all me of course, more or less,
When you left my system you took all you were able,
For therapeutic use said the label.

I can't help but wonder
If I was made for something different
To influence someone else,
Instead of the people around me.

What if I was made for so much more
Than tearing others down.
But I just ended up
Born somewhere I wasn't meant to be.

I feel like I'm here on accident,
That the reason I don't fit in,
Is because I'm not supposed to.
I clash so much with others.

I'm fighting with myself,
And the situation I've been put in.
Frustrated, angry,
Wondering if it's fair.

If only I had been born where I was supposed to,
Miles away from here,
Interacting with different people,
To find my true potential.

Instead I'm stuck here,
In a life that I don't fit in,
Becoming a black sheep among the white,
The catalyst that makes things different.