Break

Why must we all cry?
Why must we all die?
Why is it that I fall, when i wanna fly?
Why is life so hard?
When it could be a breeze.
Why does it seem like others,
can pass it with such ease.
I want it to be perfect,
I want it to be great,
but when everyone arrives on time,
I always end up late.
It seems that no one understands,
but i feel as if they should.
That when I try to hurt myself,
I would stop it if I could.
It is like an illness,
that i cannot shake.
Coz every time I try,
My heart begins to break.
The don't know what i go through,
and its not as if they care.
Maybe if they did,
Then maybe I might share.
My troubles and my problems,
They all belong to me.
But they don't understand,
Its something they cant see.
One day I'll get so sick of life,
So sick I'll end it,
With the blade of my knife.