i was young,
i didn't know any better,
i've thought the only way out,
was to take my life,
it wasn't getting any better,
people don't understand,
what i have to put up with,
but, in the end i've realize,
suicide is never the answer,
no matter how bad you want to,
so many people will miss you,
would you want that?
everybody hurt because you're gone,
mad because you left without a good-bye,
but, what can i say,
i didn't know before,
what i know now.
Copyright © 2009
4-9-09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
knowing late is knowing better...good write, Mona...soul searching....10