Dear Peoples

I'm writing you this letter, to tell you this right now,
now more worries-
no more pain,
no more sorrow,
no more games
And if you ask why its true,why I am saying this all to you,if you ask what I mean, or how angry I may seem.
Too much cutting, too many tears, too much hope, to drown in my fears, too many witnesses, too much hate, lazy world, without much fate.
Pain and guilt I hold inside, too many tears that I might cry, One small move,would do the trick, I wont think back, with the scars on my wrists.
I'm writing you this letter, to tell you this right now,
No more worries-
No more pain
No more sorrow
No more games.
Too much lieing, too many crimes, too many knives, in my time. Suicidal freaks, who slit their wrists, too many mental homes on them doing this.

Too many cuts, upon my wrists, too many questions, to as of why I did this, Too many people, up in my worries and pain, up in my ass with all the stupid games.

It's time to let go, it's time for me to leave,  Time for me to die, so the whole world can see.

My hate and guilt, sorrow and pain, this whole world, was all a game.
So follow me, to the other side, its time to let go, its time to die.