This poem is to my friends,
my friends that want to die,
to the friends that get high,
to the ones who make my cry,
sometimes I cry out why,
why has Christ put me in your path,
maybe it's to make you smile,
maybe it's to make you laugh,
it hurts me so to see my Friends slice their wrist,
it makes me pissed off at you... and pissed off at me,
you because you are stupid and ignorant,and because if you where to die I would miss you like a drug misses to get high,and pissed at
me because I was not their in your time of need,
but best believe it won't happen three times,
now every one who knows me,
they know I don't like to cry,
but instead this time,
this poem will cry,
and I'll bottle it all inside...
and let the poem cry.
