The thoughts of death
often makes me hold my breath

Through broken sobs and irritation
19 and staying in a broken nation

No job no place
Life is a meaningless race

Is it worth it the end?
Thought by now I'd be dead.

Should I reach out for help
Or just be by myself

Sick and tired of the pain
My mentality is chained

A cut along my wrist
Another opportunity missed

Who would ever want to hire
Someone who's mentality is dire

Would it be worth it it the end
Will I ever heal and mend

Am I allowed to cry
It'd be so easy to die.

I break and fall
Nothing but a broken doll

Reaching into the empty air
is anyone there?