Life

Life.

Strife.

Knife.

How funny it is, 

That my life sums up like this,

This life that is a gift of His.

My life summarized by these three rhymes,

And secrets that lived within this three lines,

This kind of life as payment for my three crimes.

Living this life to always adjust as required,

So that they could get the life they desired,

But can't they see my heart could also get tired.

This Life,

With endless Strife,

Maybe could get better through this knife.

But how could I even hold a hilt,

When they made me live with guilt?

Guilt that they thought will help my life rebuilt.

My life is shattered debris,

And the conclusion of selfish me,

Is that death could set me free.

Well don't worry,

That thought is blurry

And in leaving I'm not in a hurry.

I still enjoy this life's play,

When you know you'll lose at the end of the day,

Because happiness won't stay.

This life were sadness is your friend,

And worthlessness is a trend.

Where the only best conclusion is to pretend.

Sometimes I wish I wouldn't wake from my sleep,

Because I’m tired of endless weep,

Tired of these thoughts I must keep.

They said I’m out of my responsibility,

With this wrong mentality

That I should wake up and see the reality.

 

Well I know they wouldn't understand,

No one will understand.

Because their thoughts fixed with I’m the one out of hand.

Sorry for causing trouble,

Sorry in your worries I caused double,

If only life is like a fairy-tale where you end up being a bubble.

Well that's a weird thinking,

That being a bubble is my happy ending,

Maybe because my heart now feels like dying.

Just know I resist,

Every time I want to cut my wrist,

Even though my heart and mind wish I didn't exist.

As the scar in my wrist fade,

Prove that this life still weighed,

Know that the pain in my heart has stayed.

You don't know how I’m afraid of dying,

But when my heart is aching,

It turns out that I am more scared of living.