As the key turns in the door,
I don’t think my heart can take much more,
As I sit down in my chair,
I think what do I care?
As I begin to climb the stairs,
Slowly they drift away, all of my cares,
As my night draws to a close,
I feel a drip of blood come down from my nose,
As I grab the knife from by my side,
I think why should I run and hide?
As I lie on my bed with the knife in my chest,
It is time God laid me down to rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem