** For A Contest **
Before I'm dead I must make a list...
The final breath
suck dry from my lips...
I never belonged here
My cries were always a factor of fear...
Roses are dead, violets are no more.
I wake up in the morning, I feel so sore...
I hate my life.
Give me a knife...
Oh, yes
Feed me such sweet little lies from your precious...
I knelt upon this crumbling ground,
Looking up to the darkened skys above...
I lay on the floor,
slowly beeding to death...
I looked into the mirror today
And saw the girl I always hid...
Lose yourself, hide up on the shelf.
All in hopes that he'll find you up there...
This is the first poem I ever wrote I was 10
I don't know why...
As our family goes through a loss
No word can describe our pain...