My life to me seems nothing more
than a waste of resources and a chore.
I have tried to discover the creative spark,
My works are sad and sometimes dark.
Learn from the poems and songs I write.
Love the day and cherish the night.
For I have read the works of the depressed,
And I sympathize for they suppress.
Those who learn by what they see,
I realize, are just like me.
I have talked with those who bleed,
I understand the lives they lead.
I walk with those who live a lie.
They see, they feel, and so do I.
So many lessons I have learned;
If you play with fire you may get burned.
When you immerse yourself in all things dark,
A fire is lit from the tiniest spark.
And from this fire a lesson to be learned,
An innocent mind is easily turned.
Walk away slowy but don't hesitate,
For soon it may be too late...