I'm afraid for my life,
and i no longer care,
to try to act strong,
to try to be fair,
I wish i could end it,
but im now too weak,
to bring down the blade,
and let the red leak,
I've tried to find help,
but they all turn their backs,
when i plead with my eyes,
and show the red tracks,
I hope it's done soon,
and i rest in peace,
with the ground as my bed,
and a knife, my release
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