I stare out of my window watching this world pass me by,I've reached the point of defeat- I no longer want to try.The sun is shining brightly- the wind blows through the trees,Too bad this beautiful world no longer holds a place for me. I think about the things I've done and some things I have said,Contemplating the road to take to lead me to my death bed.I listen to the clock counting my final moments one by one,For when the hour strikes I have a date with this old gun.
My heart begins to race and my blood begins to rush,I grab the handle of my friend- my final hours up.I take the gun and grip it- I point it at my head,And just as I pull the trigger I awaken in my bed. I lay there shaking in my bed- the ordeal was just a dream,Thankfully some things are not always what they may seem.This poem is for those who are hurting- It is not your time,One day you, too, will wake up and all will be just fine.
