I want to do it so badly;The one thing I've promise not to do.The thing people hate me most for.The thing nobody notices I do.The thing nobody expects me to do.I want to do it...So badly.
The girl sits alone,Crying out in pain.But no one can hear her,While she's surrounded by her demons.Why won't someoneBreak through the sound barrier?She's sitting in agony,But no one will save her.After all,How can you save someone,From their inner demons?
I know I'm not perfect,But who in this world is?I was never an object.I was never "his".In this world,We believe we have too much skin.It's like being uniqueIs some sort of sin.I was your sin,You never cared about me.I was completely different,And you hated my personality.I was your toy,Until you got a new one.It's hard for me to admit,But you've actually won.
I can't walk away,When I can't even stand.You said you'd help me up,But you took away your hand.I'm falling down,Slower than quicksand.You were my only stability.I fell back to the land.
My God (oh, let me call Thee mine,Weak, wretched sinner though I be),My trembling soul would fain be Thine;My feeble faith still clings to Thee.Not only for the Past I grieve,The Future fills me with dismay;Unless Thou hasten to relieve,Thy suppliant is a castaway.I cannot say my faith is strong,I dare not hope my love is great;But strength and love to Thee belong;Oh, do not leave me desolate!I know I owe my all to Thee;Oh, TAKE the heart I cannot give!Do Thou my strength--my Saviour be,
A Pit -- but Heaven over it --And Heaven beside, and Heaven abroad,And yet a Pit --With Heaven over it.To stir would be to slip --To look would be to drop --To dream -- to sap the PropThat holds my chances up.Ah! Pit! With Heaven over it!The depth is all my thought --I dare not ask my feet --'Twould start us where we sitSo straight you'd scarce suspectIt was a Pit -- with fathoms under it --Its Circuit just the same.Seed -- summer -- tomb --
What does the hangman think aboutWhen he goes home at night from work?When he sits down with his wife andChildren for a cup of coffee and aPlate of ham and eggs, do they askHim if it was a good day's workAnd everything went well or do theyStay off some topics and talk aboutThe weather, base ball, politicsAnd the comic strips in the papersAnd the movies? Do they look at hisHands when he reaches for the coffeeOr the ham and eggs? If the littleOnes say, Daddy, play horse, here'sA rope — does he answer like a joke:I seen enough rope for today?