I wrote a song 
it went wrong
it was about life
so I guess the poem was right
sometimes I think I am prone to failure
cast in to deep memorys of bad times
no other mind knows them
only mine
they may have offered pleasures to others
but they only bring me pain
they stop me sleeping
keep me screaming again and again
they all think Im ok
that I am going to be alright
but I cant help feeling I should give up the fight
I hit a high
and someone pulls me back down
all the problems I face
are my own
nobody else can help me
simply because they dont know the real me
I cant let people in
they would just run straight back out
they jhave no clue
what the real me is all about
I could try
and fail again
but why waste time
when I can quickly end all of this pain