In 2006

by Lithium   Apr 15, 2005


I’m sick of all the days,
I spend wasting away,
Thinking about ways to die,

I’m sick of all my friends,
Wanting to meet there end,
And never seeking help,

I’m sick of this depression,
And everyone’s self reflection,
Why can't we be happy?

Sexual abuse, slitting wrists,
Suicidal thoughts, frightening twists,
While we all pretend its ok,

Soon enough we will all be born this way,
Not wanting to live the next day,
Because were afraid of our emotions,

Knifes and blades making scars,
Inflicted by you through self harm,
Is becoming the 20th century trend,

Some say it a weak form of attention,
I say it’s now a fashion to have depression,
In 2006.

©Samantha Jayne Reed
Wrote on April 14th, 2005

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  • 20 years ago

    by SammiBABY

    2006??? wow that sounds weird...never thought i'd live that long..till now...
    great poem!!!
    Sammi xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxIxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxdon'txxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxwannaxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxstopxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxkissingxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxyou!!!xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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