Mathew Williamson Poetry

as i lay here, i lay helpless without a kick.
as i die slow, the light cometh to and fro.
as the light should fade, i press this blade...against my skin.
now death will surely win.
the darkness i see, i realise i have no key.
death shall make me pay a painful fee.
nobody actually realised how much i hated life.
nor did they expect it would end with a knife.
i lay here in my casket breathing as no one knows.
ive taken so very heavy blows.
i wake and slowely open my eyes.

Poet: mathew williamson