Ignored

No one understands me,
or the way I truely feel.
Nobody knows about my problems,
that makes me so ill.

I try to settle down,
and get these problems off my shoulders,
but as I go on,
they begin to turn into boulders.

I'm at my wits end,
I'm ending my life,
I'm sitting at the edge of the tub,
holding a knife.

A wrist I slash,
and then the other,
just after I write a letter,
that ends, "Forgive me mother."

Into the tub I fall,
with wounds so deep.
As I laid there and cried,
I fell fast asleep.