When Death Comes a Knocking

As I feel my heart
Slowly slip away
I think about my past
And what could have been
I start to wonder
If I would be here
On death row
Just waiting for the reaper
To pull me away from it all

I lay on the floor
My wrist dripping
With blood
I turn my head slowly
To the right of me
And give a small chuckle
The last I'll ever have
At the thought of knowing
It was me who went knocking
On deaths door

I look at my wrists once more
And I see what I carved on them
ME = PROBLEM NO MORE