I write poems, usually about unrequited love and depression - feelings that have been with me for a long, long time. . . |
Queen nine, I'm waiting on the flop
The cards are all dealt out...
What is it about you
That makes me miss you so...
I can't tell you why
But I still want to try...
Since there is no use for self pity
And there's no use for tears...
There's no other place or time
when I've felt so alone...
I'm on the boarderline of death
The line of suicide...
Tears are often the telescope by which men see far into heaven |
Oh why? The lie! |
Dying seems less sad than having lived too little. |