A Dove From Above

I sit alone looking at this darkness
sitting here i know i could careless
can i be all this powerless?

what happens when i leave this room
with no social life i sit here in this gloom
day after day as it oddly turns into my tomb

such a thing should never be uttered
types of things that make you shudder
they could never peg me for what they call a cutter

i go to people who put on a happy face
just to try and get me back into this rat race
i know they are not truthful in their smiles

i know they are just hiding behind lies
they are not my friends and judge me those eyes
i watch each one of them fake smiles, fake sighs

I look at her and stare silently to wards the floor
just wishing that she would reach slowly for the door
i wish that this would end and have it nevermore.

i don't like telling people how i feel inside
how i cut myself and waking up wishing i died
looking up at the wall and not getting up

is this what i was destined to be, nothing more?
perhaps i will end up alone..it creates a sore
i want to know what it is like to feel again

just to feel something other then what i write with a pen
i wish i could go back to the way i was, way back when.
and forget that event that made me pick up this pen

not one just more then two or even four
if your like me and alive, it's you i adore
because inside i am dead, dead as the wind

for my mind is worried about all those I've sinned

looking down writing this poem, knowing i hate it.
wishing that i could have forgotten all i wrote.
but i suppose this is the way that i should cope.

for tomorrow ...it could bring a great deal of hope.........