When I was 3, my father died
But at his funeral I never cried
Was it because I was so young?
Or maybe because a cat had my tongue
Now all I want to do is die
I want to commit suicide
Maybe take a knife, and slice my wrists
It would be better then all of this
I want him back, I want him around
To take away, my awful frown
It feels like it was all my fault
For him to die a young adult
Now that he is gone, and not here anymore
I'll runaway, walk out my door.
My name is Lanie and I am sad
That things didn't work out, with my dear old dad.....
This is real. All of this poem is really happened.
