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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: February 08, 2017

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Submitted: January 29, 2017



You sit there, alone and free

The gun in your hand is all you see

You think twice about your life

Maybe it would be better with a knife


A burning sensation grows inside of you

As you cock the gun without a clue

The blood has already flown everywhere

Now it’s too late, you can’t be spared


Your body gets warmer

You’re no longer calmer

Your hands clenched into fists

All the choices you made ceases to exist


The time is finally here

Death is what you fear

You hold it up to your head

Soon you will be dead


But why choose this way?

You go up there after your blood sprays

Your mind is full of cracked thoughts

And it will be shattered after you’re shot


You got so involved through anxiety and depression

That you forgot to find your own purpose and passion

You might solve world hunger one night

You might invent something very bright


But you were too busy taking orders from the devil

Finding all the remaining angels and getting them killed

You were born here to do something different

Instead you go back from where you were sent


And it’s not always the demons who push you

Others can give you a hard time too

Judging your every move and what you think

There’s nothing wrong with liking the color pink


Who cares what they say

This is your life and this is your way

And maybe if you find that special someone

You’ll wonder why your mind had spun


You look at someone and sigh

And you think “I wish I could be that guy”

Don’t be someone you’ll never be

You’ll find yourself cornered and that’s the truth


Oh, I’m sorry. That didn’t rhyme

Why do I have to do it all the time?

For you it must have been a let down

But for me I felt like I’ve broken the bounds


I know life can be hard sometimes

I’m trying to tell you with every rhyme

To dig deep down inside of your mind

Your purpose and your passion is what you will find


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