You know how many times I've wrote a suicide note,
I swear this depression ain't a fucking joke,
I sit there and stare at every line I've wrote,
Thinking maybe it'll go away after I toke, everything's ok after that right? No,
will I ever get out of this prison? I hope,
but what do you expect me to do
because frankly I don't have a clue,
but what do you expect from someone that winces seeing a rope.
Now I have good days and bad sure,
but it feels like there's no cure,
but how do you ask for help write it out in the sand on the shore?
hoping my will to live washes up on it I can't live like that anymore.
All I can picture everytime I think it's a good idea,
Is cops telling my mom that im KIA,
I can see them try to comfort her,
tears running down her cheek,
as she screams out and blames herself with no one to deter,
I wonder if im actually that weak,
or if things for me really are that bleak,
or maybe I just haven't hit my peak
maybe I'm just on a negative streak
I can write down all this shit in ink
but when it comes to trying to speak...
I can't even muster a squeak
©sebu13
S