The Plan

The Plan

How should I do this, I need a plan
To end it all, die by my own hand
If I had a gun, I would just eat lead
Then I'd know for sure I was dead
I might as well be a skeleton in my bed
Maybe some poison to wash it all away
Or tie a noose and break my neck
Why do you try to make me stay?
When my whole life is a total wreck
The only thing sure is the meds I take
But even they don't fix me
Make me docile and a zombie
Lethargic brain, but still insane
Manic, depressed, make up your mind
I'll use anything I can find
Finally the meds have a use
Two handfuls of those should do the trick
Wash them down, don't get sick!
I can feel myself floating in space
Finally at last this is the day!

Chelley Bean Poetess