Poem

i sit here in this room,
i sit here alone,
i sit here just awaiting my doom.

I want to get help,
i want to get better,
i want to do all of this, but i was never a yelper.

I don’t know anymore i feel myself getting lighter,
I sit in a daze,
trying to become a bit of a writer.

I know i am not good,
Not a writer, or a person,
but i hope to get out from under this hood.

This is a hood where i hide,
where i don’t have to show my face,
but i guess i seem to have died.

I may end my life,
but everyone always says life is to short,
But whats short seems to be long until you look back, but i will not touch a knife.

No not tonight,
and probably not tomorrow,
But its always there waiting, waiting for my sorrow.

I cannot be saved,
not by another,
so i just sit alone, caved.