Nite Life Poem by Don browne

As I sit n the dark of night wishing I was dead how should i do it gun or knife sikk of this life laying in bed with the gun to my head I press the blade to my wrist remenising on what was as the wicked whisper in my ear 'you dont have to go on my dear' the only fear is letting any one near cant cry no more dont wanna live no more as i go see the hores with no release tonite i just wanna die feeling all this anger and rage inside.