Tragity Poem by Christopher Biddle

The things that seem like I can't control

Are the ones that seem to hurt the most.

When people are mad, it's always my fault

I try to hold back, but thats where I fall.

When people start talking, they mension my name

And I'm always the one that gets the blame.

to make me mad, it's just a game,

To see how long it takes, before I go insane.

Sometimes I wish it could all end.

The only possible way is if I was dead.

It would end all the problems, and all the pain to my head,

And so would the dread of ever getting out of bed.