The girl that never cries

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Sitting down and drawing people
As mangled creatures that they are
Pen to paper, blade to wrist
Every line just like a scar

Out in public, it's a pencil
But in private, it's a knife
She keeps drawing all those people
That seem to scribble out her life

When she gets home they come at her
Their fists are made of Crimson paint
Her skin starts turning into purple
Such colours worthy of a saint

And yet religion would look down
Upon the cruel things they do
Their reflection's seen within
All the monstrosities she drew

Those monsters never satisfied
They search for pain within her eyes
This girl that draws when the world's blind
She's the same girl that never cries.

Quote is from the song 'Prophecy' by Asking Alexandria

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