Sitting on the curb, I wait
the light within me quenched
to live or die, is what I debate
as rain falls, my body drenched

Unseen, by the people walking past
that are unaware of my intention
these strangers to whom I contrast
unknowing of my need, for intervention

Depressions rain, drips down my face
I search for happy thoughts
within my mind, the past I retrace
as I come up with blank lonely spots

No joy has ever touched upon me
a walk off the curb, digs my grave
gone from this world, an escapee
a depressed soul, you couldn't save.