i'm writing 'gain 'bout thoughts suicidal
because that is how i feel
and to ** to any gadfly's bridle
at my chance to heal

so here we go with swishing black
swirling round my head
caused by constant onslaught attack
an inner child's been fed

since age fourteen i've been crying
inside cupboards, under table
and when my outer persona's lying
inside i'm feces in a stable

'be happy', 'smile more',
they said to me as teenager,
as if the superficial rapport
could be a sudden changer

arrows shoot with deadly aim
laughter finds its mark
and though i don't show any pain
inside it's dead and dark

i'll give a sigh and plod on again
and hope for brighter time
though inside it feels the constant rain
belies all pantomime.

and why do i write this here?
because i'm a social being
i need sometimes to shed a tear
and feel there's someone seeing