A cure for all troubles

• Ming Vuong, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2005

I sit alone in hells gloomy small home
Thoughts swirl through my mind - dark moments unwind
Regret is a pastime of the fragile and pathetic
Through depressing nights I most often lament

Crying, crying - my soft tender expression
To overlook the past I clearly memorize
The atrocious day, when I had been only six
Where the devil seized my own flesh and blood

Oh how mistaken I was to judge him as cruel
Its only mankind who harm, this I can’t fool
Working for the devil in my incessant blank nightmares

I think up one way to flee from this life
I thrust a sharp blade through myself and my wife

Together we’re deceased, our remains rot away
No pain, no memories, everything is okay