Knife Wielding

Somewhere between happy, and a total walking mess.

Feet sometimes on solid ground, and sometimes at the edge.

You spend your waking moments, simply counting time.

Is to give up on your hopes and dreams, and give up on your life.

Life for you's been less than kind.

So take a number and stand in line.

We've all been sorry, we've all been hurt.

But how we survive is what makes us who we are.

With a hole in my chest and a knife at hand,

I stand up and cut the final strand.

If they hadn't showed up in my life,

I would have never picked up this knife.

The End

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