Gift me death
My sickness is suffocating
The world is silenced with my quiet
Shifting and spreading
Spreading and shifting.
My very existence is hanging on fate
Why is it fate's choice whether I deserve this hell hole?
Shifting and spreading
Spreading and shifting.
My voice, my words are hidden with everyone spewing nonsense
Saying something, meaning nothing
Shifting and spreading
Spreading and shifting.
Life is not a gift as we first thought
Death is the sweetest release anyone could give me
Shifting and spreading
Spreading and shifting.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: