On the brink of breaking down
tristful tears pay no sound
core is cracked
smoothly — like a shack.
The girl heading south
(there's no way to get out!)
cranium's filled with doubt
(there's a way to get out!)
as the wheels slowing down
doubts begin to multiply
hope begins to fly
and skies begin to cry
pieces out the window
of a heavier sorrow.
The rain pouring down
in a typical friday night
the sign says her town
the old black and white
leaves a mark on her seat
and a scar on each side
what says on the sheet:

"Suicide on my ride"