This was written in May. The first dozen or so stanzas were written on April 10, and the rest were written soon after that. This is really depressing, so don't say I didn't warn ya!!! O, yeah - I don't feel tis way any more!!!!! (for the most part). I really don't feel THIS depressed right now... (Don't worry) May I suggest that if you DO feel this way, you seek medical attention - it's really not healthy... I'm not sure why I'm even posting this for, but, oh well! Enjoy! Anyway, I'm skipping back to some stuff I wrote in the past. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Broken

I sit here
All curled up,
Questioning
My existence.

Do I deserve
To be here?
Do I ÒbelongÓ
In this system?

What if I
Never existed?
Would the world
Be different today?

Would yesterday have
Been more memorable?
Would tomorrow be of
Less importance?

IÕm feeling myself
Being worn thin.
And IÕm feeling
Quite invisible.

I am beautiful neither
Inside nor out.
I am a worthless,
Unimportant, lost cause.

I do nothing but
Confuse people.
I am of no good
Or of any help.

I complain and whine
With every step I take,
And forever I will
Talk without pause.

I enjoy silence, but
Continually break it.
I, constantly, am
Interrupting, and disrupting.

ÒWhy am I here?!?Ó
I always cry, but an
Unwelcomed silence
Is the only response.

I lead a quite
Undesirable life,
And I never know
What to do.

It seems that
The harder I try,
The worse my
Failure becomes.

ÒSticks and stone may
Break my bones but
Words will never hurt me.Ó
What a lie!!!

Words can do more -
They can break hearts,
And even more, souls.
Who better to know than I...

But worse than words
Are peopleÕs actions.
Words are only a threat,
But actions can be the murder.

I feel I owe my life
To the world,
And every person
Whom I know.

IÕve caused
Far more trouble
In this lifetime
Than done good.

Wherever I go,
Whatever I do,
I am forever
Just in the way.

I used to think
I was something great,
Something of importance.
What a fool I was!

I was once greatful
For all I had.
It is not Ôtil now
I realize how lucky I was.

Or how unlucky
I was then - and now.
If I had had it not,
I wouldnÕt miss it.

I once had
So much,
But now I
Have so little.

ÒLife isnÕt fair.Ó
Whoever first said that
Is a genius, for there
Is no truer statement.

If life were fair,
I would not be
Where I am today.
I would be

Much better off,
Living in a dream,
Perhaps it would be
Somewhere over a rainbow...

What is wrong
With me?
I have smarts,
But no motivation.

Nothing will
Inspire me.
Nothing that I
Have found, at least.

What is the purpose of life?
Why are we all
Here together?

Why must I
Be tortured
In this way,
So alone?

All my freedoms,
Gone with my dignity.
I have many possessions,
But what meaning have they?

For so long,
I tried my hardest,
But where did that
Take me to?

I have lost
My parentsÕ trust,
as well as all
Of my teachersÕ!

I suppose it
Is my fault.
Indeed it is,
It has to be!

It couldnÕt be
Anyone elseÕs!
It has to
Be my fault.

ÒIf only...Ó
Many of those
Have come
From my mouth.

No one I know
I can trust
Fully, with
All my heart.

I knew
Someone once,
But she was
Ripped from my life.

Ripped away,
Like a scab
Being ropped from
A healing wound.

© April, 2002