Weakness
Date: Wednesday, 2nd October 2002 @ 07:50:00 AM AEST Topic: Sad Poetry
Contributed By: Blue
scared brown eyes so sick of life
trembling hands pick up the knife
seeing my face makes me ill
let me pop another pill
they all want for me to tell
about the problems on which i dwell
but instead i let these problems eat
at bitter soul and heart that beats
i never thought i'd have to hide
from thoughts and dreams of suicide
the knife it cuts against my will
the knife it cuts with saddening skill
and all i needed to save my life
was the ability to reason...
...to leave the knife
This poem is Copyright © Blue
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