What is suicide?
Is it death?
Or is it just in our heads?
I want to see inside
What is suicide?
I cut my wrist
But it just doesn’t seem to work
Do I need an angel?
After all we’re just hells neighbors
All you have to do is kill yourself to go to hell
Heaven is so far away
All you have to do is something good to go there
When I die will people cry?
When I live will people give?
Why are people so confusing?
Should I cut deeper?
Or should I stop
And start dreaming?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good write. Thanks for sharing.