I don't want to hear a promise, unless it involves your happiness.
I just want you to promise me you'll be fine.
When you stand still, the world keeps moving.
So promise me you'll make the best out of your time.
I don't need to hear a promise, unless it involves your laugh.
Just promise me you'll build dreams, be free and make them last.

There is a forest old as hillsides
tall, majestic, dappled shades
fall on ground beneath the silent
gnarled defenders of the glade.

There they stand in ancient splendour
many souls have passed their way
often used as welcome shelter
from the heat of summers day.

Sweet the air they breathe in chorus
our life's breath their lungs provide,
soaking up our daily poison
so that we may live and thrive.

You seas of men intent to clear them
citing progress, peddling greed
tearing roots from precious mooring
laying waste to nature's seed.

**** the beauty of a landscape
displace creatures for your need
rupture fragile ecosystems
scar the earth and watch it bleed.

To you I ask a simple question,
as I see the land bereaved.
What need has man of all this progress
when he can no longer breathe?

Oh you sweet little thing,
I apologize to myself.
But depression doesn't knock on soul, before smashing everything to a complete mess.
Oh my, sweet little thing.
I've hurt myself the most, convincing a soul too weak that it can actually live strong.

I'm sorry, pretty me.
I just never knew how destructive my life could be!

I want to write a
beautiful poem
to tell you
I'm going to
**** myself.

But there are
No words
beautiful enough
to describe to you
the way
I'm about to die.