Krazy

I sit here thinking crazy thoughts,

a razor clenched tight in my hand.

The radio is turned up high

so no one can here me scream.

As I think,

I here a song that makes wanna me cry.

I think why did I ever want to die?

I look to my shelf,

and the porcelain dolls that line the edge.

I look to the razor in my hand.

I drop it to the floor,

and cry.

Was life really that bad,

that I wanted to die?

I lay back on my bed,

and look to the pictures on my wall.

"Life isn't that bad."

I say out loud.

"Not bad after all."

Krazy

By: Hiccup