I'm in my room,
In darkness and cold,
I am thinking of committing suicide.
I'm always alone,
And never having any fun,
I'm thinking of committing suicide.
I run away from home,
I'm no where to be found,
I'm thinking of committing suicide.
I have a knife in my hand,
And this note in the other,
I'm thinking of committing suicide.
Now that I am alone,
With this knife to my chest,
I'm about to commit suicide.
I say my last word,
' This was my fat and goodbye, '
I'm about to commit suicide.
I take my last breath,
And now I am dead,
I have just commit to suicide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this poem takes me back to how i used to be....i get it... this is one of those poems ppl should read and understand, not critisize. its real...