Wallowing In Self Pity - Poem by Bailey Schatte
When will the darkness swallow me whole?
I am begging,
For my end to come;
I want nothing more in life,
Than to just be done with it.
I don't wish to live anymore,
For every day holds depression,
That will haunt me forever;
I can't close my eyes,
Without picturing the love of my life,
In his arms.
As I hang my head,
With the razor to my wrist,
I wish for my blood,
To be nothing more than,
The blood that surrounds my frozen,
And motionless body, as it spills from my wrist.
I don't care what happens,
To me after I am dead,
Nothing can be worse,
Than the miserable life,
That I have to call mine,
Till my last very breath.
Comments about Wallowing In Self Pity by Bailey Schatte
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You