POETRY: SELFISHNESS, THE BIRTH OF SUICIDALS.

Don't do it, just ... think
Think bout momma.
The pains in which she bore you, think.
The sacrifices, think.

Source

Mummy never thought of me.
Infant me was whisked away.
Daddy gladly gave me away,
In exchange for passion.

Strong desires formed me.
Desires not meant for foetus me.
Confused between lust and love.
Urges of the loins needed to be pleasured.

Borne out of selfishness,
I must pretend to care.
Strange world of consciousness,
I must try to fit in.

It's easy to call me selfish
You really had to have your opinion.
I get all mad and foolish,
Your words plunging me to oblivion

The medic calls it depression,
Daddy says you're just being naughty.
Other versions of me,
Begging for attention.

The psycho that loves the bleeding me.
The weirdo swinging between moods.
How did I loose the old me?
Find me before I disappear.

I get really edgy,
Yet very Scarry.
One too many unsuccessful attempts.
Even Hades needs me not.

Another day to walk these streets,
With them who say I'm mentally disordered.
Yet we all live in a disordered world.
Alas, we're all suicidal.

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_{Read also} _{ROMANCE WITH UBER: The series, part 1

ROMANCE WITH UBER: The series Part 2

ROMANCE WITH UBER:The series Part 3}
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