The End
Waking up,
In a room all alone.
You sit up and cry,
As the cold chills your bones.
You see a dim light,
Shining in the cornor.
You look and see a desk,
You pray it gets brighter.
You walk over to it,
Place your hands on the desk.
Grab a pen and some paper,
Start writing to your friends.
You tell them you love them,
But can no longer go on.
"To who ever finds this,
I'm already gone."
The letters placed on the desk,
Tear stained and smudged.
From the desk you pull a gun,
Put it to your head.
One last breath you say,
"I love you all
But life isn't for me."
Then you pull the trigger.
Lying on the floor,
Is your lifeless corpse.
The blood leaks out,
Red like the paint on a porsche.
Just then someone walks in,
To tell you they love you.
They look down and see you there,
Then yell "This can't be true!"
They sit next to your body,
Cry, then ask why?
They pick up the gun,
And say "I gotta die."
All people heard,
Was the dieing echo,
Of a dieing sound.
No one calls 911,
Or goes to check what happened.
So lying on floor,
Are the bodies of two young kids.
Who made a promise,
They'd be friends till the end.
Not knowing that the end,
Was so close at hand
View User's Journal
Follow the Road of Lost Souls
this journal is going to be about watever i feel like writing. most of it will probably be sad and depressing poems and stuff like that
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