It's complicated, the way that I feel
Life's choices physically and mentally make me ill.

How can a choice have so much impact
My thoughts are suicidal and that's just a fact.

Some sort of sick test ? Or did my choices create? Well it's not fucking funny my life is a state.

The lesson from this I confess make me weary
The thoughts of suicide are creative and vary.

Shall I jump off the mountain of the man that you see, his face carved in stone this fearless retreat.

Maybe I plunge in the Humber forever lost in the depths of its caves, until I surface one day just my skeletal remains.

Or I suffer and suffer holding on to tiny hands guiding their lives fearlessly the best that I can.

So that someday hopefully they don't end up like me and through their lives and their smiles I can be set free.