Psyke.org

Gillette Punk

Gillette’s World

Copyright Gillette Punk

Thoughts are racing through my head,
thoughts of death and being dead.
This life I live has no worth,
I need to leave this crowded Earth.

I don’t have the time or the will,
where everything here is solved with a pill.
I’m tired of being tired, sick of being sick,
tired of living this live through the thick.

Living here will not last,
living slow, dying fast.
I can not seem to live this life,
all that’s left is pain and strife.

 

Permanent location: http://www.psyke.org/poetry/g/gillette_punk