At The End Of My Tether Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

I'd thought a lot about suicide,
Something was wrong with me inside
And something told me it was time I died.
I wondered if it would help to pray
So I knelt at my bed at the end of the day
But the voices in my head wouldn't go away.
It was obvious to me I'd run out of luck,
And reasons for living had started to s*ck,
I could even try harder but what the f*ck?
I'd never had a chance to prove my worth,
I'd been crippled and tortured since my birth,
I was feeling a stranger on planet Earth.
I was no longer ready to believe the lie
That someone could tell me the reason why
Lambs go to the slaughter and the innocent die!