I see the Drs, I visit my Dentist,
to take care of my outershell,
but the most inner part of me, is still living in a burning hell.
My pain is like a toxic mold,
the more I try to bury it the faster it seems to grow.
I cry, I mope, I'm told there's always hope,
But all my troubles could be solved by swinging at the end of a rope.
Death awaits me, it's time to even the score,
All I have to do is open one final door,
Open up, talk about your demons, for this is the latest craze,
Right now torment is all I've got,
And I will only find relief once I'm in my grave.
I don't work, I don't contribute,
I'm just a mouth supported by two big feet,
It's time that I grew up and admit I'm just too damned weak.
The sun shines, the grass is green, there blows a warm gentle breeze,
But in my world nothing is what it seems.
The sun is black, the plants are dead,
the wind is an icy tornado,
For this is my reality and all of my tomorrows.
I am not unique, I am but a pebble, lost on a massive beach,
And when I kill myself, I will be just mere dust trampled beneath your feet.
You'll walk on me, piss on me, while I enrich your dirt,
Plant my body under your flowerbed, to give it that added perk.
I placed all my past fear and sealed them in a cast,
So I never would have to open up to relive my past.
I talk to professionals about my pain,
they make all my choices look insane.
I try my best to defend my position,
But they just say I have an overactive imagination.
Whine to my counselor, cry to my therapist, I'll give it my best,
For God's sake give it a rest.
I talk to counselors, therapists, psychologists,
to them I'm just a number,
I cut, I bleed, my pain IS my number,
And if, or when, I commit suicide, my spot will just be replaced by another.
Leave a message, I'll call back in due time,
Even my helpers are tired of hearing me whine.
I receive words of encouragement, they come at me from every angle,
But I have no use for them, so I throw them away, instead of leaving them to dangle.
All those pros want to see me improve,
Then why do I doubt their every move?
Rise and shine, smell the flowers,
Each day is a sparkling gem,
Then why is it that with every passing moment,
I feel like a person condemned?
Im nothing, I'm rotten, I'm thinner than air,
I've talked myself into believing someone out there really cares.
Will therapy hold the link to my relief,
or will death be the final answer for all my grief ?
Don't whine, don't cry, quit being a baby,
Come on whimp, give it a try and throw out all those maybes.
This hellish betrayal I pushed deep beneath the surface,
But with herculean strength it rose with an intended purpose.
A person's body is their castle, it's their rightful home,
All those with higher education, just want to release my pain stone by stone.
I'm nothing special, I'm far from being unique,
It's time I quit my whining and stand on my own two feet.
With baby steps and lots of time,
I might make it and do just fine.
I love my wife I really do,
So taking my own life, would be so unfair to you.
It's a crime, pure waste of time,
All I do is walk in circles and think of stupid rhymes.
I know with clear resolution,
That death can never be a final solution.
Eventhough I know what he did was quite hideous,
I'm still a long way off in giving him my forgiveness.
Edited by ONEARM11 (05/02/10 02:38 AM)