In A Room With Death
Isolated in a room,
But the thought of death on the mind.
I long for the death,
Of myself to come soon,
I would be happy,
If death came and touched my shoulder,
Taking me away forever.
It feels as if,
There is nothing left,
On this world to bring me happiness,
Because all I had,
Was taken away from me;
It was burned to a crisp,
And all that was left,
Was the ashes in the wind.
It happened so fast,
That in the blink of an eye,
It was done.
I wish for no tomorrow,
And for the yesterday to be my last,
I want to be stuck with no light,
And no people,
In my dark room,
Of depression and isolation.
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Comments about this poem (In A Room With Death by Bailey Schatte )
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