You want to be done,
You see no light, not with the sun.
Your so done trying,
But when they ask how you’re doing, you start lying.
Depressions in your head,
You wish you were dead.
With these thoughts in your brain,
As if you’re going insane.
Slit your wrist,
Go to rest.
Rest in peace,
And now you're dead.
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 3:29 PM UTC
You want to be done,
You see no light, not with the sun.
Your so done trying,
But when they ask how you’re doing, you start lying.
Depressions in your head,
You wish you were dead.
With these thoughts in your brain,
As if you’re going insane.
Slit your wrist,
Go to rest.
Rest in peace,
And now you're dead.
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