I look up at the pure white ceiling,

And I’m debating all the bottled up feelings,

Fifteen years of failed attempts,

Knawing at my insides.

So what’s it like to really die?

can it really be worse than this?

But how could a boy like me be missed?

Is hell really such a burning abyss?

Is it as simple as the bible says?

One big giant burning place?

The only other place aside from the pearly white gates?

Oh no, it can’t be true.

Now am I really a child of god?

I ask this question quite alot,

If I’m really saved then how can it be,

That all these bad things keep happening to me?

Does god himself lose sleep at night,

To know at this point I’d like to die,

Than live with all these feelings,

I’ve went to such extreme lengths to hide?

I cannot cheat these things I’ve sowed,

So I guess I’ll have to reap what god only knows.

Now I crawl into my bed,

With awful feelings in my head.

I wish my god could speak directly to me,

instead of leaving one old book to read.

I need the direction to live my life,

Is life just one long trip a lie?

I guess noone alive really knows,

Just the place that the dead do go.