2005-08-07 - 3:07 a.m.
so what am i writing and for what reason.
i believe life is pointless and stupid and i shouldn't have to deal with stupidity. i hate stupidity. it irks me.
i keep considering death repeatedly again and again.
i don't care that my family is dying. am i heartless?
.
creating myself again and again. refining those area's that still don't work for me. becoming perfect.
If I kill myself today,
Will you remember me tomorrow?,
If I take an overdose,
Will you finally see my sorrow?,
If I have another drink,
Will you see my smile drown?,
As my tears will follow shortly,
Look closely, as I wont make a sound
poem written by human of www.anylit.com.
now my poem.
Just Another Girl
she was just another girl living just another day
she was just another girl who never got her say
just another little kid sitting all alone
just another worried mother waiting by the phone
just another story in just another book
just another person who wasn't worth a second look
just another scream in a world full of pain
just another broken mind in a world already insane
just another leaf on just another tree
just another jail where nobody can be free
just another hand on just another clock
just another door with just another lock
just another tear forming in her eye
just another man who knows he cannot cry
just another argument with another broken dish
just another child with another pointless wish
just another father creating bruises on his wife.
just another teenager ending their own life
just another cry for help, a single waving hand.
just another tiny problem, just a grain of sand.
just another homeless man, another starving child.
just another animal taken from the wild.
just another word that means basically nothing
just another helpless bird with just a broken wing.
she was just another girl sick of being just another face
she was just another girl who disappeared without a trace.
i am losing myself again into that place. but did i ever find myself. was i ever myself. i feel like i'm always pretending and always adapting. always blending in.
but i will stop my rambles now.
one last thing.
image means nothing in the end. your relationship with your beautiful person will mean nothing when you are broken and dying.
�
�
