Gray

Blue for tears

And red for blood

But yet It's black for death

So dark

So dull

Lonely in a sickened skull

Waiting for tomorrow and

Hoping it

Will all

End by then

Suicidal

And people

Call them crazy

But what's

So wrong with

Wanting

Pretty

Itty bitty

Little precious

Types of things

Like loss of

Memory

Cause those

Always tend

To hurt

Me

Like a bird

Knocked down

From the sky

By an evil

Gun

And

The only thing

They see on

The way

Down

Blinds and

Dazes their minds

Confused by

That bright

Light that

They once

Loved

Cause when things

Go dark

Even the sun

Hurts your

Mind

Slightly but yet

Prominently

Painful and sweet

For you

Sinister brains

Contemplate

Their mind of whores

Sell their soul for

Green things

And gold rings

Cause money equals

Power

But honey that's

Fouler

Than a stench of

Dead souls

Rotting in

An empty room

Which brings others to

Remind themselves

Of past regrets

And ignorant feuds

And say sorry for

What they never knew

Just. Like. You.