My Poem~

One word becomes hundreds, thousands, millions. Haters out to make a killin’. Suicide is a deep and dirty thought, but hell. None of this is gonne stop. So I grab a rope, a blade, and some pills. Something to end this monster Something to help me kill. I wish someone could have saved me, but no one would. See, I was Ms. Little Misunderstood. An outcast to society, a target to my generation. All of it seems to be a misled occasion. Seems to me as Im unwanted, here. So tonight I’m leaving but who would even care? Tie the rope to my fan, take 20 pills, and slice my wrists. Just to end all of this. Everything is dark and cold, and life itself is growing old. Goodbye life, goodbye world. Goodbye..