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Literature Text
Nun sitz' ich hier mit der Kippe in der Hand,
starre seit Stunden tausend Löcher in die Wand.
Die Gedanken hoffnungslos und kühl,
doch euch ist es egal was ich fühl'.
Bin nur ein Mensch, verlasse und leer,
geh' diesen Weg, doch der ist schwer.
Die Depression ist so stark das ich wein'
leider ist mein Herz nicht aus Stein.
Niemand steht an meiner Seite, seh' es nur noch nüchtern,
was soll ich sagen, bin eben leider schüchtern.
Ich bin kein schlechter Mensch, das weiß ich,
doch mit der Zeit zweifelt man an sich.
Die ganze Arbeit und Wege die ich lief,
hinterließen Wunden, die sind tief.
Ein Blick zurück und es tut weh,
was machst du nur wenn ich jetzt geh'?
Wenn ich gehe dann für immer,
es wird von Tag zu Tag nur schlimmer.
Jetzt steh' ich da die Knarre in der Hand,
ein Knall und das rote Blut spritzt an die Wand.
starre seit Stunden tausend Löcher in die Wand.
Die Gedanken hoffnungslos und kühl,
doch euch ist es egal was ich fühl'.
Bin nur ein Mensch, verlasse und leer,
geh' diesen Weg, doch der ist schwer.
Die Depression ist so stark das ich wein'
leider ist mein Herz nicht aus Stein.
Niemand steht an meiner Seite, seh' es nur noch nüchtern,
was soll ich sagen, bin eben leider schüchtern.
Ich bin kein schlechter Mensch, das weiß ich,
doch mit der Zeit zweifelt man an sich.
Die ganze Arbeit und Wege die ich lief,
hinterließen Wunden, die sind tief.
Ein Blick zurück und es tut weh,
was machst du nur wenn ich jetzt geh'?
Wenn ich gehe dann für immer,
es wird von Tag zu Tag nur schlimmer.
Jetzt steh' ich da die Knarre in der Hand,
ein Knall und das rote Blut spritzt an die Wand.
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Ein Gedicht mit einem dramatischen Ende.
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