This isnt one of my best poems, however it was how i was feeling. As the clock ticks, it strikes 9, i start to write, i think to myself, if my life was a book i think to myself, all it would be, is a bold smudge of blood across the page. With countless amounts of heartaches, traumas and rages When i feel like this my light inside it died just as i wish to i sat in the empty corner and i cried it has effected everything in so many lives it went unnoticed no conclusion has been drawn i wish to write this so all of you out there can feel the pain which i too have felt. the pain, which was just washed as rain washes down drains. as im writting this i feel like im writting with blood from my skin just as my tears would stream down the page.