Suture My Wounds

A Poem-

Sometimes plans get fucked.
One way or another.
But I have to hold onto my faith of the fact,
that everything happens for a reason.
That shit works itself out.
If it didn't, I would no longer be sane.
I look at the people around me
and notice many little things.
But mostly the fact of their pettyness.
I would like to think that my family is normal.
Everything that has happened to has been done to everyone else.
But the cold hard truth is that it's untrue.
Most cant say they've wanted to die everyday for two years.
Can they say they've seen the cops at their house,
Calming their angry father
As he points a gun to his head?
Can they remember the time their mother
was stuck in a hospital bed?
Can they say they've seen their world crumble around them?
Can they say they seen their favorite dog
lying on the side of the road,
shaking and quivering from
the harsh grip of death?
Every worthy possesion taken from them?
Have they ever given their parents their savings for a new toy,
So they can have food for a week?
What about having to say goodbye to a sibling,
and wondering if they'll ever make it back?
Life is full of problems,
but what if yours are the worst?
What if you can't wait for the sun to rise,
so you can escape the dark?
I can not say that I have been happy my entire life.
And I know God knocks me down,
so I can learn from other's mistakes.
So I can live a better life....
I just need to get out of here.