i lie in my bed every night
i cannot sleep
for there is too much pain
i can only weep
tears streaming down my face
nothing left good
tears pouring from my eyes
tears of my blood
laying in my bed alone
trying to decide
holding a gun
how i want to die
should i blow off my ugly face
so noone will ever see
should shoot my brains out
end all thoughts from me
should i shoot my heart out
its already dead
you made sure of that
with all that you said
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wickedly dark, but great in it's own sense...(I love the dark side of poetry)