Array ( [sid] => 77994 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Cowardice [time] => 2005-01-01 02:10:12 [hometext] => What is there to say? [bodytext] => Feeling empty inside, another lonely night,
Staring at myself, such a sad sight,
Always wanting to be needed but treated like trash,
Burned away by the world, reduced to ash,
Thrash and shake in my cold corner with tears,
Tired of it all, don't even want another fifteen years,
I've got a pretty knife, all sharp and new,
Debate with myself wether or not my thoughts are true,
It was a bad day, just like the last,
Just like every day in my past,
Fast to react, an over reaction of meaning less pain,
But it needs to end, and God won't let it rain,
Cast a shadow on my arm, blad to my wrist,
Time to stop the hurt, ball my hand into a fist,
Preasure applied, tears are cried, trying to force the knife inside,
Ticket stub in hand, ready for my last ride,
Break the skin, commit sin,
Slowly my world starts to spin,
Drop my knife, it hits the floor,
Made the journey, but stopped at the door,
Look at the scratch, disapointed at fate,
Stare back at myself filled with self hate,
If I couldn't do it, I guess I wasn't that sad,
Guess I was to scared, guess it's not that bad... [comments] => 6 [counter] => 202 [topic] => 36 [informant] => Unheard_Mute [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => Suicide ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Cowardice


Cowardice
Date: Saturday, 1st January 2005 @ 02:10:12 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Unheard_Mute
Feeling empty inside, another lonely night,
Staring at myself, such a sad sight,
Always wanting to be needed but treated like trash,
Burned away by the world, reduced to ash,
Thrash and shake in my cold corner with tears,
Tired of it all, don't even want another fifteen years,
I've got a pretty knife, all sharp and new,
Debate with myself wether or not my thoughts are true,
It was a bad day, just like the last,
Just like every day in my past,
Fast to react, an over reaction of meaning less pain,
But it needs to end, and God won't let it rain,
Cast a shadow on my arm, blad to my wrist,
Time to stop the hurt, ball my hand into a fist,
Preasure applied, tears are cried, trying to force the knife inside,
Ticket stub in hand, ready for my last ride,
Break the skin, commit sin,
Slowly my world starts to spin,
Drop my knife, it hits the floor,
Made the journey, but stopped at the door,
Look at the scratch, disapointed at fate,
Stare back at myself filled with self hate,
If I couldn't do it, I guess I wasn't that sad,
Guess I was to scared, guess it's not that bad...

This poem is Copyright © Unheard_Mute


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