suicide guitar

Guitar on my lap,
sorrow in my rhymes,
try to write it out,
the sadness on my mind,

The ink won’t leave my pen,
it’s bottled up inside,
like the sadness in my heart
and the death that’s on my mind

Everyone thinks i’m fine
but really, deep down inside
contemplating suicide
to put an end to these sad times,

with a slash to my wrist,
my blood would soon run dry,
just a stain on the sheets,
and a tear in my eye.