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I've lost it all except my despair

I've done damage to myself I cannot repair

I thought my death would come quick

like a flame snuffed on a candle wick

I feel as if i'm on trial, i stand accused

I don't know if i can handle this method of being abused

I've lost it all, including myself

Like a used up toy put back on a shelf

I'll lock myself away and never come out

no more afoot, no longer out and about

I'm tired, it's ended, now can i die?

it's better thann having to face this lie