Statistic

year: 2000-2001

Suicide and cut wrists,
Run through my mind.
Blood dripping from
Hanging corpses,
Razors hanging from their hands.

They say all the world's a stage,
And the ocean's made of tears.
Green isles in aqua seas,
And love's wonderment...
These corpses knowing none
Or knowing too much.
Pain and death were all they thought,
In lonely lives before they died.

I don't want to be one of those,
I just want the pain to stop.
No more pain, I beg, please.
I don't want to be
Another statistic.

Nicolette Coer