Poetic Journey: Two Slit Wrists

Poetic Journey
Two Slit Wrists
The pain inside consumes my soul with darkness, way past the point of no return,
My soul cries loud, but no one hears what’s inside, when you’re broken, beaten, and burned.
Sometimes I feel like I know what the Egyptian slaves, Jewish people, and my Negro slaves went through,
In my life Moses never comes to save his people, the world doesn’t stop Hitler, and MLK’s dream never comes true.
What do I do when there’s no one to run to?
I talk to God but he doesn’t say anything back when I ask “What Would Jesus Do?”
No love is given to a bastard and a motherless child, which I am,
No light at the end of the tunnel, a spirit can’t save the deserted, and no one gives a damn.
The anger, the fire, which held my life together, is extinguished, no more holes in the wall with my fists,
The feeling I feel now can only be cured by one thing and that’s two slit wrists.
I kept the pain inside and now I enjoy watching it seep from my body, rose red,
If all the cutting has failed I have a desert eagle under a pillow on my bed.
I appalled the confusion that’s now taking over my body and mind, hurry up and let me die,
Please come take me from this wicked world, kiss my ass, I hate you as you hated me please let’s not lie.
I’ll get on my knees and bow to you oh sweet death, just please, just please take me now sweet darkness for I am waiting,
I give myself to you just end this now; I can feel my heart fading.
This isn’t working fast enough give me the strength to grab the desert eagle, I’ll end this now, the way it needs to be,
I cock the barrel towards my heart and close my eyes, placed my index finger on the trigger and pull it back, I’m not dead… Well kill me!