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Poems and other junk
People ask me why I'm blue.
Its the tears we cry.
Some times we don't know why.
Just want to die.
For no reason maybe its because no one cares.
If your alive or your dead.
Doesn't matter if your here or if your there.
They pick at you they pull
They try to break you like a child and its toy.
They try to make you who your not and
They try to kill you and make you living on the outside and dead on the in,
giving to their every wimb.
There every say....I'm a Zombie; having all the time in the would till the very end.

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