• The throb and choke the steady poke where can you go to get away every second you think suiside but what a waist you think and think but do not cry you can't feel you'r legs, and when you do only pain evry step evry thought evry sound evry little twich you still think suiside but that thought was unanserd. The pain ceeps growing and growing, getting worse by worse you think why me why now the pain gets worse you'r will to live starts to fade, in the pain you come to think I should die soon enough but day by day night by night you'r alive you think about family always puting you down with their words wich causes more and more pain. You pray to god to make it stop but apon that prare more pain and dispare. One day you think you'r will won't fade but stay weak. You still feel so much pain siting there by you'r self never proven wrong you'r will fades weaker untill just common sence remains. If you die where would you go? Would it be quik and painless or slow and painfull? You think not to tell for they'll just lock you up and make it worse. The pain is just to much and you fall in the school hall evryone stares you can't move you'r legs not an inch so you use you'r arms and go to the nurse. She hits it once it dosen't move she hits it twice more, nothing. You still feel the pain of the tool hit you'r leg and scream small scream.You try to walk and you fall again. They take you to the hospital. They break you'r knes. the pain echos to you'r brain you punch the doctor. In a cast you lay unable to walk you make a phone call and ask a friend for well I won't tell you but refur it to... from now on so the ... arivesyou keep it then jab it through you'r hart then cut you'r ear and you'r foot and you'r arm's with you'r last breath you write this "poem" and mumble alone to you'r self and with you'r blood spirting out wich you'r "poem" is made from you'r blood.