I am 25,
quite sick of my life,
waiting for death to arrive,
but she does not come.

Like all females,
she smiles and teases,
makes you wander behind her,
but she does not come.

Life isn't better,
then if I were on a stretcher,
making love to death,
as the 'boys watch on.

For some there is happiness galore,
materialistic, senseless, totally psyched out
more than me, much more!

The search for sanity goes on,
the indelible marks of life hang on,
hit, hurt, ready to fall,
as the people watch on.

I am 25,
quite sick of my life,
waiting for death to arrive,
but she does not come.