I can't be what everyone wants me to be.
Everything I do is just another mistake.
Ican't make anyone happy or proud.
I only make them mad and dissappointed.
I understand that everyone hates me.
I understand no one will cry.
I know im not loved.
I don't know how to love.
And now I never will.
I just wish..................
God loves you. God will always love you, even when you feel like no one does or when you do something really bad, He'll still love you.
I too wish, but today I wish for you what you wish for yourself. Tough subject matter well handled.
Each phrase is full of despair. If families don't understand you'll always find at least ONE person who cares and you probably have someone who worries for you. Please take care and find happiness because it does exist.
Its misfortunate that the world makes you feel this way. You have to concentrate on looking at the world as a beautiful entity. It is spring let its beauty flood into your eyes and sooner or later when you look at yourself in the mirror you will realize that you are part of this beautiful world which in turn makes you beautiful as well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tonya: I never know how to take these. There are several poems on this site dealing (usually in the first person) with suicide. To the extent you are serious, please talk to someone that you know and trust. Get help. If you're writing from a strictly artistic standpoint, then you might want to do some additional research. For example, just by way of comparison, here is the text of the suicide note left by Virginia Woolf to her husband Leonard on March 28,1941. Most experts now believe Virginia Woolf suffered from manic depression or bipolar disorder for most of her life, or at least since age 13. That's what she's referring to when she speaks of 'this terrible disease.' Here's her note: 'Dearest, I feel certain I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that - everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. V.'