operation mindcrime pt 1

Hopeless situations....
plague me day by day....
my world of color is the same everyday
gray, gray, gray....

The colors swirl around me nothing changes....
the dull gray....
the blind white....
and even the depressing black....

i go to bed hoping that something will change tomorrow....
i fall into a deep sleep....
hoping to have a vision of my future....
but instead i get a very special vist from some very ghostly figures....
a visit that i get every night....
but every night is so special....

The Ghosts of Depression comes into my room....
Laughing at me....
slaps me in the face telling me im worthless....
pathetic....
a nobody....
telling me that no one could love a loser like me....

The Ghosts of Sadness floats around my screaming into my ears....
Digging its ghostly nails into my skin....
i scream out for help but no one can hear me....
and even if they could they wouldnt believe me....

The Ghosts of Insanity just sit there in my room plotting against me....
i hear them whisper words and with an evil grin they laugh
We will have him soon enough....
no i cannot let them have me....
no....
i thrust my bloody arms into the darkness hoping to pierce their ghostly skin...
no it doesnt help....
nothing can help me....
i fall back down knowing that the inevitable is near....
the ghosts leap toward me....
plunging me into the darkness that is insanity....

No one can help me....
Straight jackets?
injections?
needles?
pills?
a little love?
no nothing can help....

what is this love that these people speak of?
how come i cant have it....
maybe the Ghosts of Depression were right....
no one could love a pathetic loser like me....

I wake up the next morning lying in a pool of my own blood....
with razorblades in hand....
i lean over the bed....
my body so limp from loss of blood....
i just slide off the bed....
i see a bloody note lying on the floor next to me....
my suicide note....
i read the words scribbled across the page....
Where did we go wrong?

i go to the bathroom to wash the blood off my face....
i notice something on my writs....
slices, cuts, and scratches dance around my arms and neck....
scars litter my shoulders....
from past mistakes....
how much more can my body take before the Grim Reaper decides its my time
hopefully soon....

my body can not handle another visit from the Ghosts of Torture....
i can hardly make it on my own as it is....
my life was so great when i had one....
i can not live a life like that ever again....

My dreams were shattered....
my heart was torn away from me....
to the world i am dead....
cold....
heartless....
and alone....

I wish to leave this world behind....
there is nothing left for me to do....
i cannot bring myself to pull the trigger....
there is something holding me back....
a ghostly figure....
who is it?
it tells me to hold on to life something will happen....
but before i could respond it disapeared....
i dont know what to do....
should i listen?
this time i will....
what do i have to lose?
nothing thats what....

The Grim Reaper is gonna have to wait....