The Demons


Every night I cry on my own,
Wishing I hadn't been left alone.
When I wake each day,
I only hope the demons have gone away.

It always seems the more I try,
The more I simply want to die.
As the cuts begin to bruise,
I know I have nothing more to lose.

The demons are all I hear,
Torturing me with my deepest fear.
Each night that I cry sadly,
The demons smile gladly.

When I take that final breath I smile,
After all, was life like that really worthwhile?

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