I'm done with suicide <br />I'm done with being sad <br />I'm done with everything <br />I've gone fucking mad <br />Blew up the TV <br />Busted all the lights <br />Smashed all the windows out <br />This feels so right <br />I painted the walls black <br />Like one big dark hole <br />I set my matress in the middle <br />Whatever I say goes <br />White and black are contrast <br />They stick out together <br />If you add red in <br />It might be a little better <br />So I sit and cut my wrist <br />To add the red in the room <br />I sit here and cut <br />In my dark and duly gloom <br />The blood gushes out <br />I've hit the main vein <br />It's overflowing the room <br />I'm going to die the same <br />Did the room really need the red? <br />It could have stayed black and white <br />But nothing can ever be that simple <br />And you know that I am right<br /><br />Cheyenne Ashley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-color-red/
