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by Morgan Aug 3, 2004 category : Sadness, depression / about depression
Many who read this Can probably compare We believe our lives aren't worth living So much pain we can't seem to bare We live sorrow Bottles of pain The sting from the cuts Is what's keeping us sane The relief from the blood Letting in drain from our wrists We think this is the end Like there's nothing we're missed So we sit here Day after day Watching our live Waste away We know no one can save us We're too much into death We hope that each intake of air Will be our last breath We hold all This hurt inside And it's practically Eating us alive We're all screaming deep down Praying for someone to hear No one can see these tears That some have made from fear We're all living without a purpose Knowing the end is close Some of us take pills Hoping to get weaker by the dose Some can't deal with their appearance Can't stand the face in the mirror We all have our own ways Of bringing death near We eat as much as we can Vomiting it up afterwards But most of us don't consume anything Only the degrading words To us, we are helpless We have different types of crying out Inside we're all dead and empty Just sort of wandering about We proceed to drink or take drugs To help us not care We feel invisible Somewhat barely there We need love and affection So we sleep with anyone we can We just want to matter to someone Because we've lost our woman or man Keeping these feelings locked up Then write down our deepest confessions We're all looking for a way out A key to unlock us from our depressions Searching for the fastest way to leave It seems to be suicide We can't stand this thing called life It's causing us to be blue inside We're all different But in a way the same This isn't life for us But more of a lost game For the ones who have lost someone We feel the blame We live this despised life With a load of guilt and shame We know we can't be perfect So why even try The harder we push ourselves The more we seem to cry We have our box of sharp objects The razors, knives, and blades We create these scars in an attempt To make the pain inside fade away Others don't notice us Don't give us a second glance They see our scars And won't give us a chance No one seems to care So we cry out in lamentation We are victims of the darkness How can we be God's greatest creation? (This is resubmitted)
