A poem written January 2008.
To Die
The wind blows and no one knows.
How the I feel or what I know.
But times change and so do feelings and when it ends we start again.
We cry when you die and suicide is such a wonderful way to die.
We take each day by one small step and hope we don't lie.
The worst thing in the world wouldn't be to die.
But to die without being loved.
without being remembered.
without a true purpose.
without someone to miss you.
without the satisfaction that you did something worth-while for the world.
without knowing that you were the one.
You were the one who saved, killed, loved, hated, hurted, and ******** up my life so bad that only, you could fix it.
But guess what?
Your gone.
Because you went with me.
 Ducky Rawrr · Fri Jun 18, 2010 @ 08:37pm · 0 Comments |
