He told me he loved me
he told me he cared...
Dressed in black, I mourn for my country.
Newspaper clippings reveal another death...
I keep telling myself
hes in a better place...
He came home to see..
His whole life, cold...
Once had it
no longer mine...
This is a poem that I've written. If you really...
Until I Started Cutting Again...
If I could write
A thousand words...
I don't know why he drank those boose,
He died with everything to lose...
Walking along the empty road
Alone and tired...
You wouldn't believe how much I still cry
Doesn't seem to let up as months go by...
This is no tragedy of little tears
My heart is still...
Long night thinking,
Another day to dream...