Suicide is a crazy thing
Because once it’s in your mind it just continues to ring
No matter how long you ignore it for, or however long you look out the window for
He is just standing there, patiently waiting for you to open the door
It could be months, **** it can be years, he will always be there however long you ignore
Suicide has been knocking at my door for some time now, though it doesn’t seem that he is getting impatient
I’m sure it's because sooner or later he knows I will have to open the doors and let him in
Sometimes I open my window and have a talk with him
Talk to him about my day, about my struggles
He never responds though, just smiles back
I have to fight the urge every hour of my life just to simply not give in
It's getting harder day by day to keep that door closed
I’m sure it would be hard for anyone to keep away their only friend

Emaciated bones
Shivering in shrunken clothes.

Wrinkled faces,tired eyes
Watching the sun is their only prize.

Tears burn their cut up skin
Work injures up their shins.

They cannot speak for they weep for their farmlands
They are so used to work,even with their old hands.

They are dying,dying like flies
Because they are poor and these are their lives

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

No one can know your pain
Not nearly as well as yourself
But the rope won't take it away
It just gives it to someone else