Unknown

E'er so much as the world turned,
Thoughts of a better world unfurled;

But there sat a boy, not much younger than I,
And all he could think was that he wanted to die;

Because in this world it was another day another dime,
He came into this world way before his time;

He would've done better in the old Wild West,
But now, he just can't seem to give dark thoughts a rest;

That odd but good sensation he can still feel,
The feeling on his wrists of the cold steel;

Every night he hears his dead friends cries,
And inside of him, more and more each day, a little of him dies;

It's time to end the terrible pain,
The pain of life, the horrible thoughts of going insane;

Just get away from this horrible place, end it all, he thinks,
These thoughts are on his mind and deeper and deeper the blade sinks;

The thoughts begin to fade, the lights go dim, and then he is gone,
He may be dead, but the memory of that young boy lives on;

These are the thoughts of another young boy,
Wondering why friends do that to friends, to steal their joy;

And every night when he lays down to sleep,
All those thoughts into his mind do creep;

Trying hard not to deliver the same ending as so many,
Wanting to take life for every penny;

Now, to most, none of this might make sense,
But to him, it's the story of his fragile existence.