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I don't know,
-.-;
Here are some depressing poems I found in my Diary:

Used

Pluck me,
******** me,
Screw you,
I do.
I'm not Psycho,
Your just crazy,
I'm just hazy.
Stuck here,
Frozen.
Your so,
Lively.
I'm so,
Dead.
Done so
Nicely,
My
death bed.
If I lay here,
would you be there?
Next to me?
Would you see?
The look in my eyes,
Of unspoken tears,
All of these years,
Of moist pain,
The eight thousandth plain,
have you ever,
Tasted a rainbow?
Forever and never,
I never have.
I've been broken
Bruised,
and Abused.
And I'm tired of being used.
Being lit on fire,
Burned,
Churned,
And I'm just tired of being used.

Home

Home.
I can't stand it!
I'd rather be at school,
Twenty four seven,
Then be at home,
remember being eleven.
When danny was alive.
When I had an older brother.
It's so hard to survive,
With someone like mother.
Broken up,
burned crisp,
Depressing mist.
It sprays over my joy.
I'm so dead.
Mom seems to be over it.
I need CPR,
I need first-aide.
A Band-aide.
But my band-aide keeps getting ripped.
And my life keeps getting flipped.
I'm seventeen.
Not Eleven.
Danny is dead.
Not alive.
Mother is still broken.
Not over it.
My band-aide is ripped.
Not protecting my wound.
Gone.