t kwam maar in me op en wou het ff op papier zetten... ik vind het een walgelijk gedicht..maar goed
Would life be better if I just left this world,
If I would make life get out of me?
Then my body is just laying there,
Just like it is now, but without any blood flowing inside.
No warmth inside anymore,
Only the bitterness coming out of my hearth.
The blood flowing out of me,
Me and my veins.
My body gets cold,
My longues stop breathing.
There´s no movement anymore.
It all stopped, just like I wished for.
But then I wake up from my dream,
And start living again in a nightmare.
Does it have to be like this?
Is pain all there is?