en liten dikt jag skrev under en depression

solitude, being worthless

gratitude, feeling soulless

if i die would they care

if i cry, i wouldn't dare

if you had bread would you share

i try and give every coin i can spare

our useless king controls his heir

it seems like people just aren't aware

that there is no more to life than despair

were all drugged by "healthcare"

i put my gun against my hair

pulled the trigger the blood glows like a flair

life isn't fair, but who the fuck cares

people just love to compare

my life to your life

your strife drives my knife

your stare causes me to swear

oh I'm sorry did you get scared?

its just my psyche which is quite impaired

to weird for any doctor to repair

i guess this isn't that rare

"dude you should really get some air"

what? oh yeah i need to breathe

i can here my self grinding teeth

i have been here writing like a machine

well that might just be the amphetamine

for just a moment I'm calm

hallucinating stigmata into my palms

just recalled I've been up for days

my anxiety really weighs

i guess I'm just one of a thousand strays

i can't be here i can't stay

i force my self do do another line

just to get from this place to mine

i lay in my bed, let out a sigh

I'm ready now just let me die.