Sitting in this dark room,
Writing poetry is what I do,
All alone,
No one in sight,
With out my love,
Without my life.
As I say my final plea,
Without you sitting here with me,
I try to speak,
But have no breath to leak.
With much of the blood that runs through my veins,
Running through my hands,
Down to the floor,
Staining the tiles with my pain.
I want to scream
But I have no time,
For I’ve just committed
S.u.i.c.i.d.e
Lauren Renee'
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/s-u-i-c-i-d-e-2/
