As all the smoke clears
you turn to your peers.
They all left
before you learned your deft.

Depression is your
greatest aggression.
To write music
that’ll never make your fans sick.

You start taking pills
to get some thrills.
They didn’t help
you were afraid nothing would help.

You turn to alcohol
which makes you run up and down the hall.
You get some more cuts
since your getting s*** from the sluts.

Nothing works
So you turn to suicide
for the good perks.
It just messes up your inside.

You don’t go with it.
For once thinking of a benefit.
Your depression ends
because of some friends.

You stop
and listen to a cop.
You don’t want to go back to that unit
Knowing you could always prevent it.