What did I do?
When I was just a child,
my father caused my pain.
My number of injuries piled,
My screams to stop all in vain.
I hated the day I was born,
My father told me I don't deserve life.
Nobody at my funeral would sincerely mourn,
I should just hurry up and pick up the knife.
I don't know what I did to deserve this,
I don't know how to make it end.
But my eternal bliss,
Would be to make my neck bend.
Poetry Slam:
This poem is about:
Me