My Suicide

I watch the world from my room
Waiting for sleep to come
Staring up at the ceiling
Wishing I had a gun
I'd shoot myself
I'd end my pain
Knowing that in the end
I'd lived in vain
And I'd lie to the angels
Say you gave me my death
Then I'd sell my soul
Because I'd have nothing left
I'd look into Heaven
And at the gates be denied
Condemned to Hell
Because I lived a lie

And I watch the world
From inside my room
I lay there and know
This place will be my tomb
I pray to the angels
That they'll just let me die
I'm tired of living
This miserable life
I'd have a knife
Clutched tight in my hand
And I'd pray in my head
Hoping God understands
But I'd be damned
And sent away
When I got to the final
The Judgment Gates
He could never understand
That I really did try
He would just see it
As My Suicide

by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow

Comments (1)

Tatianna Rei Moonshadow, I am amazed that this is the first comment on this poem. I too have seen my room as my tomb, for reasons I will not reveal here, but will tell you if you ask in a message. There is no way that I can understand how very much the same we are as this poem reveals, but I am not as honest as you are. This poem is too real and scary, but that is the art behind the artist, and you have the magic in you, so don't give up just yet.