Letter
I want to die
And I do not lie,
But even that is a lie
I’m not your average guy
Blood does not look red
It’s black, color of the dead.
My mind is made up.
My life has to stop.
I’ve already tried it
But failed and lost a bit.
Don’t know what, still
I’m feeling something that makes me ill.
When my eyes read this letter
I suddenly feel better.
Someone feels worse then me.
I know I shouldn’t think that.
But then I see,
The last word,
And who wrote it,
That hand belongs to me.
And I do not lie,
But even that is a lie
I’m not your average guy
Blood does not look red
It’s black, color of the dead.
My mind is made up.
My life has to stop.
I’ve already tried it
But failed and lost a bit.
Don’t know what, still
I’m feeling something that makes me ill.
When my eyes read this letter
I suddenly feel better.
Someone feels worse then me.
I know I shouldn’t think that.
But then I see,
The last word,
And who wrote it,
That hand belongs to me.
Reacties op dit gedicht
| The unreachable: | Woensdag, februari 18, 2004 22:57 |
| Hééél mooi gedaan weer! Your life doens't have to stop, alright? Der zijn mensen die om u geven, Joyka, remember that! Take Care... | |
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Joyka | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: christina | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 18 februari 2004 | ||
| Thema's: | ||