Suicide

I'm sitting here once again,
the same old place,
holding a pen.
writing the thoughts,
that come into my head,
wishing that i could just be dead

I'm sick of the pain,
the laughter i hear
everyone hates me
I don't want to be here
I'm giving up now...
I don't really care

To my room,
the mirror
it's my last stare...
As I put the weapon to my head,
BANG
I can't believe...
I'm finally dead.

By Jane,
13 years old,
Sydney