You broke my heart.
you tore me down...
I am sick of feeling this way.
sick of being treated this way...
You can always say,
"It will be better tomorrow," right...
A lost cause
without a thought...
You whisper "just one more glass"
As you pour yourself some more...
If I died would you miss me?
If I died would you care...
I lie to my self
and everyone around me...
I am a poet writing of my pain.
I am a person living a life of shame...
I came across the thing called...
The knives are ripping,
clawing pain...
Walking down this broken road,
The cracked pavement hurts my bare feet...
I wonder if I can fly,
off that bridge or these stairs...