He doesn't argue or hold a grudge,
My best friend, he's never one to judge.
He hides in my droor, a secret place only I know,
He takes care of all my problems, all the stuff I can't let go.
He is my hidden treasure, the highlight of my day,
I wait and wait for that eighth period bell, just to go home so he can take all the troubles away.
I try to tell myself it is not good for me,
But I can't stop now, my life is just too crazy.
Week after week I only feel more blue,
So when I finally get home from school, I resort to page number 122.
I go to that secret droor, and I open that secret book,
I turn to 122 and look.
I take out my old friend and slash him across my wrist,
I let the blood flow out, my problems drift away, and I am sure I will not be missed.
Please comment and let me know what you think! (and if this makes any sense to you at all)
