The Death of a Weak Spirt

I am one of those peoplewho wants to die but lacks the courage to pull the trigga.....im not your average nigga. Im more cowardly than the lion with more endurance than an ant, yet in all my pain the exit eludes me, which concludes to me that its not my time. I am simply awaiting my purpose while aimlessly wondering the earth. It must be to keep moving forward because my backwards is back words and my back words affect my tomorrow only if i let it. My present is clouded with who will attend my funeral, for the death of the spirit is by far worse than the flesh. Blastphamies exscape my heart as my silent plea for a swift end goes unheard and the only sound that lingers is my pen writing this suicide note.