Sunday
The first time I saw your crimson tears
Monday
The first time I noticed your hearts fears
Tuesday
The only time I was there for you
Wednesday
The only time I said I loved you too
Thursday
The first day your music played
Friday
The second time you broke down and prayed
Saturday
The last time I saw your anger rise
Sunday
It started over with a big surprise
We found you dead
I had it all wrong
Saturday was the last time you sang your angry song
I killed you slowly
By not noticing at all
I wish I would have been better at helping you after your fall
For that I’m sorry
I was watching you die
Without it fazing me, I didn’t wonder why
A better friend would have been there
Feeling your pain
Seen through your eyes with bitter distain
As I walk through life now
With worn tennis shoes
Hating myself and singing the bitter blues
This razor will cut me
So deep that you feel
So deep that you scream this pain is for real
Wishing won’t help me
Because you’re still gone
But as I turn away your essence will live on
Monday will come and I won’t forget
I’ll remember the day till I work up a sweat
I’ll remember until I take my final breath
But without you here I already died my final death
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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o wow
i loved this
a very great write
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I love how you said the days of the week and then described them... that was great... and then you had a whole different type of stanza by itself. That was really creative and different. Great job and keep it up! ♥ Erin
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wow chrissy this is really good. It is so wierd reading poems that you write like this, coming from a very happy person!! I really like the first part the best, the sunday through sunday part it really made me happy then really sad!! it is really good!!
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i've had friends commit suicide and really when i thought about it this is what came out... yeah
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I think, this is an unthought reason I do not wish to outrighttake my life.
Im sure I will eventually be forgotten, but I do not wish to cause anyone any grief for my passing for the next couple of years.
Its selfish to think, but I hate the thought of people crying for me.
Yeah, selfish.
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This is too dark. Good rhyme, though. Thanks for sharing. Take care.
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