Mum walks into my bedroom, discovers me on the floor
Drops to her knees and cries, she doesn’t know, she’s not quite sure
If I’m dead or unconscious, I’m just laying there deathly still
She yells to me and shakes me then sees the blood I’ve spilled
She runs to the telephone and dials triple zero
Not knowing where to look, not knowing where to go
She yells and screams at David, she yells and screams at me
Robin hears about the drama and rushes around to see
But it’s all too late, a waste of worry and a waste of dread
I knew what I was doing with that razor, cut real deep and now I’m dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem