noone would care
if i ceased to exist
i have no real friends
so i wouldn't be missed
i think about dying
each and every day
so i found myself a very good way
to end my sad life
to be where i'm loved
but suicide's a sin
i can't go above
to be in the clouds
there just is no way
but they say that there's hell
maybe that's where i'll stay
right now i feel it'll be better than here
too bad my pleas noone cared to hear
i tried so hard
to shout out my heart
too bad noone noticed
i'm too pretty and smart
with a perfect life
yeah right's what i say
so here in hell is where i'll stay
here in this nuthouse
held against my will
and all because of that bottle of pills
but they just didn't work
much to my regret
so i sit here in this bed and i fret
will i ever get better?
i really don't think so
but to sit here and try
many tears are in stow
i know that my life will never be sane
it seems i've lost in this crazy game
of life and death
already dead inside
but death is all i think of
where is my pride?
so i sit here alone
restrained to this bed
and i think to myself
how i wish i were dead

dont steal my poem plz