Suicide

One day I'm going to get tired,
Of this plain old life.
I'm moving closer and closer,
To them knives.
I don't know what,
Has stopped me before.
But nothing is around now,
I've locked my door.
No one would care,
If I died right here.
But yet I still hesitate,
As if someone is whispering in my ear.
My eyes show me my life,
And all the good times.
My mind keeps telling me,
"Don't commit this crime."
I shake my head,
And look at what was almost done.
There's a knife in my hand,
And my hand drips blood.
"Someone is watching over me" I think,
"At least for now.
Look what I almost did,
Holy cow!"

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