“Who are you? God?” I demand. “Maybe I am. And with the way you’ve been treating me, well, you’re going to hell, buddy,” she says indignantly. “Yeah,” I sneer. “I’m sure that God definitely goes around kicking third graders in the balls."

This is me, the real me, spilling what's in my heart at the moment. It might not mean a lot to you, but it's all I have. If you read this, please write something back to me, I need your help.

This poem was written for a friends who friend commited suicide

Contains a suicide theme... I wrote it for a personal reason, but don't get on my case about it. Please review, comments (good or bad) are muchly appreciated