Two Cuts
Sometimes I wonder, Why I am here. To me it makes no difference, I hold nothing dear. My heart is a stone, That seems to be hard and cold. My face is like hardened clay, In its stony silence; just waiting to unfold. My emotions are calm and collected, Without the happiness of life. I see earth as a graveyard, With everyone living pain and strife. I’m dead down deep in side, I have no soul to save. Please just make two cuts, Please just put me in my grave.I wrote it on my 16th birthday. I was so depressed and hell I actually cut that day to be honest...... don't you just love it when you're parents forget your SWEET SIXTEEN? Written March 15th, 2001 © on Feb 21 2002 01:32 PM PST, Jessica Taylor 18 • 0 • 10
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"Sometimes I wonder, ..."