Friday Morning

Sitting at the edge of my bed in regret
I imagine the troubles that were fret
If only I could look back and alter the past
Wishing it would merely last
My decision would be clearer
But my end is drawing nearer
As I gaze across the room my eyes intensely stare the closet narrowly,
With the bed sheet made as a rope ready to be hung.
Scared, I want turn but it has to be done
Ready to leave this horrible place behind
Suffering none, just plain and simple to find
I grasp the rope around my neck, making the pressure more intense
I feel the incredible sensation of my last moments
Knowing it’s too late to be saved, I did not care
Everything to me before seemed so unfair
As the last memories of my recent troubles flowed by I tried not to cry
Hoping I finally will rest easy without a tear from the eye,
And the sorrow filling up inside.