Sometimes life's not fair,
and we get what we don't want,
like a mouthful of hate
shoved down our throats.
You hope I choke.
Well, so do I.
So there,
it's fair.
Cut my wrists and bruise my skin,
everybody must dig in;
tear apart my heart within,
leave me to be nothing but a bloody mess.
I deserve the worst,
so I'm told.
Cut open my chest,
put me in the cold,
leave me to die and grow mold.
Freezing, crying, fading out,
in my face, they scream and shout.
Sometimes life's not fair,
and we get what we don't deserve,
like getting dragged by the hair,
and getting kicked in every curve.
You hope I die.
Well, so do I.
So there,
it's fair.
I once complained about the pain,
that life brings upon my heart,
but there soon after,
began the start,
of the war inside my brain.
And I won't say anything again.
Beaten, bruised, and so confused,
I'll never say a word.
Teachers ask, parents worry,
but they'll never hear from me.
I thought once that they had heard,
but they never said a thing.
So here I am,
once again,
contemplating suicide.
I know they think it's cowardly to hide,
but I've got no one on my side,
and nowhere to confide.
It's just my time to say goodbye.
Sometimes life's just not fair,
and we get what we don't need,
like pain and hurt that we can't bear,
and beatings that make us bleed.
You hope I die.
Well, so do I.
So here I go,
no one says no.
So there,
it's finally fair.
