Photographs

I look at the pictures placed on my wall,

All filled with precious memories and smiles,

But each radiate sadness above all,

Emulating pain in every profile.

I wonder, do others think as i do, 

Remembering the moments as painful?

To the hope of bliss, i say adieu,

For i don't think of myself, disdainful.

My happiness is gradually fading,

I have no choice but to watch it abate,

For towards myself, i am degrading,

My very painful death i do await.

How and when will i decide to commit,

To my sad death, that makes me very thrilled?

Though i am somewhat scared, i do admit,

Do people care for the memoirs i build?