I'm not a poet but could relate to a lot of the posts on this thread and thought this was a good introduction to me and the way I feel. Today was meant to be my last day on earth, but messed it up again. Went for a nice dinner with my hubby last night, thinking that it would be a great way for him to remember me, but the pain of my conscience and what my death would do to him got the better of me and I cried which alerted him to what I was planning. I hate the fact that I always put everyone else first and won't commit this one last action for me to help me. Trying to be strong, But always getting it wrong, I’ve always put others first, So how come I come off the worst? Write it down, let it out Those feelings inside that make me want to shout Scream with the pain that I feel on the inside The pain that I always hide Why do strangers have to die, when I’m the one who suffers? Who wants to swap with them instead of hitting the buffers Too nice to kill myself for what it’ll do to others Live with the pain that suffocates and smothers I want to be strong, to feel the will to live But so worn down, I’ve given all I can give From the outside I have the perfect life, on the inside I am already dead.