The leftovers of life,
See no one cares.
I was born and here I am,
So now you see, my life is bare.
When will you realise,
My life is full.
Not only with distrust,
But its ugly and dull.
Soon you'll know,
What suicide means.
Cos I'm helping you,
To water the beans.
One day you will speak,
And tell me how it is up there.
And maybe later,
I can tell you about down here
