I thought that I had a hard life.
Two parents that loved me, but they always told me what to do.
I thought to myself… “I’m grown! I know it all and I don’t need you!”
I took off on my own. I’m seventeen and all alone, but knowing all of the answers.
I gave up on my dreams the moment I decided to leave.
That night I went to sleep, without the thought that I may never truly wake up.
Seventeen years old and I’m putting a needle in my arm.
I’m telling myself just try it… just once.
Then on my second try I said this is the last time.
Three, four, five, I’m losing sight of the world.
I’m slowly slipping into my worst dream.
I didn’t know it then, but I know it now, but all is too late as I lay face down on the ground.
I wasted it, straight A’s, scholarships, a full ride into college, and I wasted it.
For What? Because I didn’t like to be told what to do?
Now I’m looking down on me from above.
You know what? It wasn’t worth it… for my young life is through.