Looking into the mirror,
Hoping that's not me,
Scars all over her arms,
Eyes filled with misery.
Tears falling from my eyes,
Crying out from all of her pains,
And when I close my eyes,
The horrible image remains.
All her life she's been taunted,
And made a fool by others,
Beaten by her father,
Yelled at from her mother.
She cuts herself daily,
Kinda her routine,
Finding joy from her blood,
Escaping from those who are mean.
But stopped as I see my reflection,
Seeing all the blood flow,
Screaming from the inside,
Dying was my soul.
She tried to stop the blood,
But it was just too much to stop,
Getting weaker and weaker,
From each and every drop.
When her parents found her body,
They didn't care a bit,
They dug a hole in the backyard,
And threw her body inside it.
They told people I ran away,
And said they were very sad,
But deep inside...
They were really glad.
No one knew the true story,
No one knew my life,
No one knew my pain,
No one knew about the knife.
~Stacey Jayne Lynch~
YOU ARE READING
Sad Poems
Poetrya variety of losses, regrets, and depression wrapped into a mess of a poem book started: 04.29.15 completed: 06.24.19 a book that has existed almost as long as I have on here. thank you for giving my story a chance (my apologies if some are really c...
