The End To All Pleas

Yesterday, you died.
You died because you had given up on life
And couldn't stand the pain much longer.

You couldn't bare the resentful looks,
The cruel things they said from day to day;
you wanted a way to escape all this.

So once more, you tried to get away.
You wanted the pain to come to an end,
And you needed to take control.

You wrote a note, saying good-bye,
And left all your problems and worries
Hanging from a ceiling up high.