im sick of all the bitching just leave me alone

the pain


no one understands me,
they dont know how it makes me feel,
they always criticise me,
they make me feel like im not real,



some times i wonder why im here,
most days i wish i would just drop down dead,
and put everyone out of their miseery,
so i lie here on my bed,
wiht a knife in my hand,
do i dare?
to kill my self,
if i did its not like theyd care,
i push the blade through my brain,
i feel the blood rund down my face,
im going to go to hell now,
its a far better place,



im leaving all my troubles be hind,
and all the people who made me sad,
im leaving the world were i once lived,
and all the things that made me mad,
all the times i felt that i,
just could not go on,



all the times i felt that i,
was being stranded upon,
but now those times are over,
because i have ended my life,
and all of this was possible,
with the sharp edge of a knife.