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Here I am,
With despair,
Dying slowly.
Does she care?
My last breath,
As it's written
Is the first
Of a kitten.
Knowing much,
Yet nothing still,
I take the pistol
Myself to kill?
No, I'll go
To sleep just now.
No more pistol,
This I vow.
Sleeping to
Escape this hell.
With my life,
Not much to tell.
So far away
From all I love,
I suffocate
Inside this glove.
Isolation,
To extremes.
Sleepless nights.
Few sweet dreams.
This life of mine,
It's nothing now.
Make it something?
Don't know how.
With her love
I conquer all,
But without
I only fall.
Simple tasks
Deteriorate me.
I'm dying slowly.
Does she see?
More being depressed about the girl. Some elements of his poem also reflect that my family moved when I was 15, which took me farther away from where the girl was, and it was also a move out into the country, so I wasn't able to walk to stores with my friends and such anymore. Thus, I had more time alone to focus on being sad about the girl.
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