Hold out your palm, catch the lies you’re offered.
A song about depression and suicide. Possible trigger.
Patched up with weakened tape.
That’s all it is.
More whiney crap.Sorry.Uhh.No freaking out you super nice people on here.I wrote this a while back, and I'm fine now.
I wish I could apologise, but I’ve nothing left to say.
This is old and from when I first started writing poems.
Lying is my game, what's yours?
I don't even know. It's just kinda...there. Be warned... It's a bit whiney.
They'll spit on your dreams and throw them away, Watch as your happiness fades into grey.
It's a poem about suicide. How about that?