I think I'm suicidal,
Long sleeves to hide it all,
Empty promises shout out their calls,
Whilst walking down silent halls.
Sharp knifes kept in my room,
Lies carved on my tomb,
Blood splattered roses in full bloom,
Whilst darker shadows loom.
Guns kept in my bag,
They think I'm starting to brag,
Healed cuts start to snag,
They call me rude names like '***'.
They won't leave me alone,
I'm walking towards the danger zone,
Newly bruised skin on shattered bones,
Their voices mock me like repetive drones.
They don't give me time to think this through,
I can't stay any longer I'm turning blue,
I start when the clock strikes two,
This is the last of me its true.
As the clock strikes,
I jump...
And I keep falling...
No more name calling...
I'm free...
So I guess I was suicidal after all...
This is for a friend of mine who used to be suicidal because of bullying throughout her life because she was ginger.