Despair is the sorrow,
for things that are now gone.
We feel there is no tomorrow,
or that it will ever come.
Even if that new day comes,
I ask you, 'What about the next?',
and so forth and so on.
For you see that there are some,
for whom, which life isn't worth living.
It is for those sad people,
whom I now break down and cry.
Or sometimes find myself screaming,
'Why?, God, Why?'.
Do these here people live in sorrow,
Knowing not what comes tomorrow.
No life, no love, no happiness,
Now for them tears do seep.
From my eyes, across my face,
to my pillow,
As I cry myself to sleep.