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