When I think of this thing,
that creeps in everyone’s mind,
it makes me think of only sad;
it makes me want to take my life, the only one I had.

It’s hard to fight it,
so you begin to cry.
I’m always all alone,
no one’s ever by.

When you’re in your bed at night,
you cry yourself to sleep
thinking it’s another day,
another day you weep.

When a friend tries to help,
and talks to you that hour,
your hopes being to build again,
like a great big tower.

But when that moment’s over,
and nothing could be done,
your hopes begin to go away,
they run, and run, and run.

This horrible feeling begins to win,
over and over again,
until another person becomes
a helpful, caring friend.

The cycle goes on and on,
everyday of your life,
if it wasn’t for those helpful friends,
your soul would be within a knife.

Suicide.