• Part 1: Burden off their Shoulders
    Weep and cry and pray I die
    and you can't deny the mourning and suffer just like no other
    when you see the terrible me that my two
    idoled figures portay me to be.
    What can I do but obey and stay
    and hang on their every word while
    waiting for that peaceful "BANG" to go through
    my head, but instead, I must fret, let us not forget,
    that I am their one and only -
    keeping them not so loney.

    Oh, the humiliation! What a burden I seem
    in the eyes of those who dreamed of a better child,
    not one so wild and uncontrollable.
    I have met my toll of tears and fears.
    Such a decision I have to make. So I break my
    thoughts and inherit their own for yelling is done
    when they don't like my tone. I can never be best,
    never high above the rest just like they want me to be.
    I taunt myself for it is how I was raised, never praised.
    Just criticized for my demise.
    What a goal to be seen perfect in their eyes.

    That is something I can never achieve
    and confirmation is what I recieve
    for what I believe is so negative about myself.
    Pushing me down and kick me around
    for their own little games and call me names.
    I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!
    Mine eyes have been so sore
    from the cries that they don't deserve!
    A curve from lips is what they'll get,
    but nothing, yet, is still set for the revenge
    that I will throw their way. To watch it grow
    while I laugh in mine glory, not theirs!
    Victory will be for me.
    When it comes down to their word
    against my story.

    Part 2: Burden's Death
    Watch as I lay here
    in the hands of a greater power
    as I wait for my last hour. For that final minute, final second,
    final moment that beakons for my soul.
    This is out of my self-control
    --or so it seems--
    for everything has changed;
    rapidly rearranged in strange and
    confusing means.
    This is too much.

    A scream of pain, a blood-red stain
    so visible to the nake eye, making
    millions ask "Why?" For they do
    not know about this girl's life,
    of all the strife that was faced, and knives
    that were placed at her wrists; fists around
    the handle. Sitting alone under the flame
    of a single candle. This was her cure.
    She was sure that her life would be better.
    What a fool. Such a tragedy. Her last words,
    "Thank you for having me.
    I know I wasn't your first choice.
    Annoyed by the pitch of my voice.
    Blaming me for materials gone amiss.
    Accussing me of ignorance just
    because I had bliss. . .

    Pull on the trigger and be rid
    of your burden.
    I am just a kid, they won't miss me.
    Don't you see, what you have finally done to me?
    Laying in bed, drenched in sweat,
    Sticky with blood. A vision you won't soon forget.
    Take a picture and remember
    this face as my last surrender.
    You've won the whole war
    plus every battle fought before.
    I'm tired of trying for it will never
    enough.
    Take this as my Goodbye Forever