Birth Of Death Poem by Dakota Ellerton

I have felt this pain,
many times in my life.
The guilt weighs down into thought,
thought becomes action,
action became reality.
I'm much more helpless then I ever thought.
Before I'd even realized it,
I was shaking.
My hands, my body,
what do I do?
Nothing.
I won't tell anyone.
I won't runaway.
I'll lay here and slowly die,
I'll wait for the end.
If only I'd waited longer in January,
I might not have been around to see this.
See the pain I've inflicted,
felt the pain I've endured.
What good would suicide be,
without a reason,
some sort of drive.
I've been driven to the edge of sanity,
to see only imperfection in life.
What will you see,
when you come looking for me?
Will you find me in an unconcious state,
or will you find an empty shell.
I've always been rather hollow,
ever since the birth I wasn't suppost to experience.
Really the doctors weren't incorrect,
in thinking I'd be born still.
I was never really alive.