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My Days

The day begins

The clock ticks leisurely
The teachers voice going cold
The page remains blank
The pen not picked up

The second becomes minutes
The worries become receding thoughts
The classmates now expressionless faces
The friends currently enemies

The day ends
The night begins

The parents bickering turns to rage
The children bury away
The youngest crying
The oldest comforting

The minutes become hours
The receding thoughts now troubling depression
The expressionless faces now gone
The enemies not knowing of this

The night ends
The thoughts begin

The thought of running
The thought of cutting
The thought of burning
The thought of suicide itself

The thoughts end
The day begins





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