Apparently im mental,
if I cut or am depressed.
Don't give me a label,
you just can't see the rest.
This world isn't perfect,
like you try to believe.
it's a place we wrecked,
the mental one isn't me.
Are you blind?
Do you see the suicide?
Think about why,
people don't want to survive.
You strive to,
hide your let-downs.
I see right through,
without saying a sound.
I feel the same,
maybe we can be friends.
Don't feel shame,
we are both at our ends.
Don't pull the trigger...yet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem