It almost morning, but not quite.
My room is dark,
except for the mid-morning light.
My mind feels blank and my senses dull.
The page is empty,
and the pen in my hand is full,
Our story has already begun,
but how to put it in words...?
Up comes the sun.
And hours pass,
and then some more.
I miss one class,
and then the next four.
I have to get this down on paper,
never has the world seen,
such a suicide laden caper.
We sat on the phone for hours at night,
you describing the ways
you could end all your days.
Me sitting there, listening,
scared you would go through with it.
And then hanging up, off to school,
to listen to shit
from those close-minded fools.
"He wouldn't do it, he's a pussy,"
So were they, they just didn't know it.
But then, why wasn't I pushy?
Maybe I could have inffluenced you.
We could have come up with a reason or two,
for why you should live.
But the Maybe's are Gone.
And so are you. |
