Here you are once again,
dressed in black and stained in red.
each step you take weighing a ton
partaking in life as if there is only, one.
Oh woe is me!
I stand alone,
I'm tired,
in pain,
im sad,
depressed,
melancholy,
hurt,
beat,
low,
down,
mad,
I am simply dead...
betrayed, despondent, fed up, destroyed,
blah, blah, blah,
Enough!!
If all you do is speak that of pessimistic nouns and verbs,
then the only words that will fall from your lips will be of that.
You head hangs low,
taking place,
proudly,
of a head held high.
Approaching me,
smile plastered upon your lips
"Oh, look at this!!! I cut my wrist with razor tips!!"
...
Hello?
Depression?
hello you there?
Oh you are!
Yes, my name is veracity!
All you do is speak in rhymes of misery
while you walk around acting as if its "cool" to dress in black and play a part where the sad weighs more that that of my extended hand.
while you refuse to do a thing
you complain your life is a living hell!
You come to me, just to gossip over your latest suicide attempt!
Your attention hungry,
that's all i see,
you plead.
and you cry
no, your using me!!
A boy crying wolf is ALL that you are.
cause one of these days,
i wont recall the "bing" or the "ring" of your last death filled call.
cant you see my hand reaching out?
im trying to show you more than your shell.
but unless your bluffing,
i refuse to help.