I can't stand it anymore
I don't want to be alive

Left as a puddle on the floor
Nothing here for me to strive

How can it go from good to bad
It isn't fair to live like this

Don't think it's normal to feel this sad
Guess I'm going to get used to this

"The grass is greener on the other side"
Then, how much brown grass is left to tread?

Must I learn to deal with it and abide?
Or, will it just be me alone, left for dead . . .

~a poem by Elizabeth Kay~