Okay, first off: did that title make any sense what so ever? If so, please state it, because I am really starting to rethink myself. Anyway, from now on, but not for forever more, I am going to be putting on poems from my collection called: GRAVEYARD SHIFT so, if you are into that kind of stuff, then welcome and read. Here is my first: He holds her hand when they walk in the room The bed isn't a place for love but a tomb She nows of his immenent doom And rubs her stomach to calm the one in her wombs He grabs a knife and puts it onto his veins The lightning strikes, it's beginning to rain She sits down and knows that he is insane He cuts his wrists and bleeds, but there is no pain She stares at him, but she isn't crying And kisses him as he's lying down dying He say he loves her, but he's lying She says that she knows and she's sighing Blood is on the bathroom floor, but it's hers The gunshot suiced inside is now heard The crows and ravens are the onyl surrounding birds Sometimes living isn't worth it, is what we've learned.