Enough, Enough
I don't want to writeI'm about ready to fight
I feel so mad, so full of rage
Anger, frustration fills this page
I hate everything fight now and then
Nothing matters, not even a friend
I'm harsh and cold
All alone, left to die, to rot
Is this all a lie? Screw it give me a shot
A bullet through my head
A knife through my chest
I would be better off dead
For me that would be best
I could care less
I am just a mess
People laugh and people smile
but they will all die in a short while
Is it real or just a dream
My imagination makes me scream
I'm still so full of thoughts
That are all making me rot
A bullet through my head
A knife through my chest
I would be better off dead
For me that would be best.
Comments