Dead Ends

Playing with the dead ends  
Staring at the butts in the ashtray  
My finger twirls the ash around  
Black from the burnt filth  
 
My mind slipping away  
Thinking about death again  
How easy it would be  
To just stop the misery  
 
Time tears at me as the seconds pass by  
Each one counted as my evil mind envisions  
The many ways to kill myself  
 
Back again looking at the cigi ends  
In control again  
My finger I stare at  
Jet black, inked from ash  
 
My mind lulls in hell  
I want to die  
I realise  
 
For hours this goes on  
Round and round  
I find my self  
Looking at the ashtray  
My finger going round  
 
Desperate now  
For some way out  
Why can't I stop  
This evil now  
 
Nothing makes me want to stay  
There is no dream I care to take part in today.  
 
But  
 
My release was comedy, laughing at someone else's suffering.  
 
My release was understanding, I would never be found.  
 
My release will come, as it comes to us all alone.  
 
Why don't I dream for myself?  
Pick up the wings on the shelf.  
escape this hell