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.