jaimiabrego

Blood flows from our wrists, Making our hands turn into fists. We only feel the pain and sorrow, Have we given up hope for a better tomorrow? The rope is hanging from the ceiling, Helping us end that miserable feeling. The pills are scattered across the floor, Maybe we need to swallow just one more? Others might refuse to see the cruelty of life, While others try to end it by the knife. Trying to get out of this cruel dream, Sometimes all we can do is scream. There are others like you out there, You might not yet know where. But they try to overcome it, That's something not all will admit. Every one of us needs a helping hand,