Gone

I used to write music, I was happy but those days have faded Why is it like this? I will never know why the good times had to go Into my writings, hides my heart Shattered and torn pieces In these writings, are my soul Broken beyond repair. I tried to help, I tried to protect Only to get burned. My image is forever destroyed How is this what I've earned? The public writings of a dying man He doesn't know he's gone. By those who hate, or by my hand I have finally given up. These words you read I speak freely May they be a warning love yourself, and trust nobody or you'll end up just like me.