Plots & Plans

Everyday I have one thought in mind,
It's the thought that I want to die.
I'm depressed,alone,and out of sync,
I get so upset I begin to plot and think.

Would I be a coward if I took my life?
Even if life itself didn't feel quite right?
I just don't understand why I'm this way,
From hour to minute,every night and day.

I see my shrink but he really doesn't care,
He sits in his chair taking notes as I share,
All the shit that's been consuming me inside,
Except the plots I keep of my own suicide.

I write this poem at three thirty in the morning,
I can't seem to sleep while my wife is snoring.
I bought razor blades at the store last weekend,
Plans are in the making and this isn't for pretend.
Written by PleasuresOfPain
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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