Everlasting Nightmare


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Best Poem of Everlasting Nightmare

Too Late For Living

I sit in the corner,
depression im bleeding.
I sit in the corner,
barely breathing.

People stare,
they don't admit.
People stare,
they laugh at the slits.

They don't know how it feels,
the pain inside.
They don't know how it feels,
to want suicide.

When I am gone,
'cause the slits went to deep.
When I am gone,
the will pretend to cry and weep.

Even though deep inside,
they know if they would've helped.
Even though deep inside,
I would have stopped if they cared.

I guess it's too late.

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