It was scary that night,
I thought the sun would never rise,
The moon would never shine.
And if the sun did rise,
It would be a disguise.
It was an illusion, never a solution.
I always thought it was a genocide.
I cant make up my mind,
Should I leave or should I stay alive?
All these thoughts all these problems
Taking over mind
I've lost the will to survive
No longer staying alive......
No I'm not going to kill myself because it says that in the poem. They are poems, not suicide letters....