locking the door holding a knife
debating on weather to take my life
start to laugh when i slit my wrist
stab it in begin to twist
to the other arm i did the same
now it bleeding from vein and vein
bloods spilling on the floor
from the skin that i tore
tears flowing down my cheek
the loss of blood made me weak
i fall down and close my eyes
then i awaken to a surprise
i kick and scream but no one hears
memories flash of passed years
oh my god im in a box
no one can hear me under the rocks
mom, dad please come get me
please come fast im rotting quickly
i close my eyes and let my spirit free
no one will come and rescue me
where im going my spirit will die
i guess i wasn't ready for suicide
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem