My friend wrote this poem...i wanna know what you think about it.

I'll paint you a picture.
I'll paint it with a twist.
I'll paint it with a razor.
I'll paint it with my wrist.

Now my arms are blooded.
So blooded and torn.
Those are broken feelings.
Drippin on the floor.

Then one day I'll have enough.
But then there's one more twist.
On that day I'll love to say.
The picture won't be on my wrist.

But on my throat.
Perhaps on a boat.
So i can sail away.
It'll be bright red and dripping wet.
Oh that'll be the day.

All these things I've told you.
Are my life's little fixtures.
But here up on my blooded wrist.
I'v painted a picture.