I don't know how to survive
I have no need to strive
I can't describe or contrive
reason to thrive. No drive
to stay alive.
Pain hidden behind a mask
its a hard task being
Artificial, people can
be so superficial.
Dig deeper, you might
find a sleeper a keeper.
I'm not an empty shell
theres something inside.
Tied by pride. Pain, contained and restrained.
While sadness is plain in my brain.
And I'm drove insane by this chain
that makes it hard to explain
the strain of this being.
The constant resistance of a persistent
need to distant myself
from this existence
in a world of pretend
Is a feeling you can't
contend or comprehend
my friend.
The sadness is overpowering
and the madness is constantly devouring
My minds decaying, decomposing, exposing
the rotting, where the plotting
of suicide resides.
