Till the ink runs red

Mess Failure Winner of the losers No good Just not made for this world It's hot Spinning The future seems blank The past is tainted If this is the last I write Would anyone read it? Could you see my last words and hear me Listen to my warning See my regrets Will the pages I've strained red get through Will the ink stain your hands Something you can't ever wash off Would my end have meaning? Write my name A school project PowerPoint Talk about my mother My sister My brothers My name. Say I went too young I must've been in pain Will I mean more once I'm dead After all My words, these words are just words Poems just phrases in different orders Maybe my writing, my work won't be read Never recognized Until the ink runs red