He feels alone,
He feels like the world is on top of him
He feels the pressures of all around him mounting upon his shoulders
He feels not joy or love
He does not see the outstretched hand of a friend
Just the lonely room in which he sits
Day after day waiting for a sign
A sign that he will be accepted
He will be understood
He knows it’s a long shot but it might just happen
He slits his wrist with the blood stained razors
And He cries as the blood pours from his veins
He cannot escape the gut renching feeling that death is his final destination
He goes to a pharmacy and buy the box of pills
He sits in his lonely room and drinks vodka
He forces the pills into his mouth
He waits…
HE DIES…
He feels like the world is on top of him
He feels the pressures of all around him mounting upon his shoulders
He feels not joy or love
He does not see the outstretched hand of a friend
Just the lonely room in which he sits
Day after day waiting for a sign
A sign that he will be accepted
He will be understood
He knows it’s a long shot but it might just happen
He slits his wrist with the blood stained razors
And He cries as the blood pours from his veins
He cannot escape the gut renching feeling that death is his final destination
He goes to a pharmacy and buy the box of pills
He sits in his lonely room and drinks vodka
He forces the pills into his mouth
He waits…
HE DIES…
Adding your comment: