Pop

Things are not going right,
I feel it inside.
Nothing is ever going to be the same,
No matter how many days slide.

Why must I feel this way?
Feeling so depressed.
My world keeps falling.
My life will never come to rest.

Waking up everyday,
Just wishing to die,
Doesn't do anything,
No matter how hard I try.

Someday I will finally be gone.
My life will then come to a complete stop.
Pulling a gun to my head,
Hearing *Pop*.