Writer: Nayirah Salem
Bleed, bleed… bleed in pain,
Bleed so hard with no gain.
You don’t have a bandage; you don’t have a strap,
You are just bleeding continually in this dull trap.
The trap of agony and dolour
You are too young to be treated as a bawler.
Bleed and bleed …. You lost your youth.
Your heart is aching, yet your face is faking.
You want to give up, your faith is fading.
You don’t want to live, not even for a short while,
Yet you wish you could change your lifestyle;
You wish you could be as tough as them;
However, your heart is soft and your emotions are slim.
Bleed, bleed they don’t know your value,
Although you always try to show how beautiful are you.
You don’t belong here, my friend.
Trust me and your suffering will end.
You always give them the best clue,
Still, they don’t know the true you.
Your heart is gold; howbeit, their hearts are silicon.
Bleed, bleed and as you bleed your sleeves will get longer,
You just want to survive, despite the problems that are getting wider.
Can’t you see how are they getting in life chanced?
While your woes and miseries are getting enhanced.
I feel sorry for all the tragedy you have gone through, but wasn’t it your mistake, though?
They don’t understand you, but I do.
I am standing right in front of you.
Are you still looking for the clue?
Come take my hand.
When the light goes down, you will understand.
Come with me, I will show you a place;
It’s soft and fancy just like lace.
You’re sick of feeling down,
You’re the not only one, so does the happy clown-
All depressed souls are faking happiness.
Now I will count to ten,
And you will stop feeling worthless.
Remember I am here for you;
Stay in your room and lock the door;
Go get some pills;
Come on its late!
It’s all a glass of water and you will stop the hate;
Trust me no one cares to see you again.
Now the counting is done and so is your life
I won the fight; I sharpened my knife.
Now let me tell you a couple of things,
Let me say it before the bell rings.
It’s funny to say that I am the demon, my friend;
The demon with the name depression that stressed you until the end-
I lied to you and darkened your eyes;
I swished off the light in order for you to only hear my lies;
I killed and turned your dreams into nightmares;
It took no power from me, I swear.
You were low and I lead you blind,
I made you see the image that I drew behind.
It all started from a small tense,
The second step was to make it seem dense.
I lied and you believed me,
And that’s how depression will always be.
So now it’s my honour to say,” I won the war.”
Still, you will rest in another one in your afterlife; it will be full of sore.
If they rescued your body before the pill’s effect spread,
They won’t be able to rescue your heart, sorry it’s emotionally dead.
How can someone still have emotions after committing suicide?
I am sorry, my friend, it was just my job;
I hope you will understand why I cut the rope.