Poor Broken Girl

Sharp intense pain

From a sharp intense weapon.

Everyone tells her she's not sane

Because she enjoyed the pain that came.

 

It's her against the world.

She cries at night, her body curled.

She is angry and alone.

She feels exposed to the bone.

 

She is an outcast,

Always seen last.

She is blue in a see of red

All the voices in her head.

 

Breaking skin with her razor,

She thinks death can only save her.

Desperate to find who she is in life,

She gives up and reaches for a knife.

 

She is not satisfied with what is offered,

Only because she has suffered.

So she is done,

Nothing to do but run.

 

There is a whole within her heart.

She couldn't love from the start.

She was never held and loved,

Always shoved.

 

She's lost all hope

She doesn't have patience to cope.

Everyone has tried to help poor broken girl

In the corner balled up in a curl.

 

Digging her grave I know think,

Why didn't I help her as she sinked?

In pieces she fell,

But now she rests away from this Hell.