The song of the unfortunates

Don't stop believing.

Just a small town girl,

Living in a lonely world.

She took her knife out,

And cut again.

Just a city boy,

Born and raised to help them out.

He took her knife away,

And hugged her tight.

Her mother in the living room.

A smell of wine and cheap perfume.

For a while she will cry tonight,

Her daughter's cured forever.

People staring,

At the scars she's got on her.

But she's smiling.

She's cured for life.

Don't stop believing,

Hold on to that feeling.

Smiling,

For real.

Don't stop believing,

Hold on to that feeling.

Scars gone,

From your arms.

A/N

This is a parody to song Don't stop believing. Thank you soooo much for read my poems, it's brilliant. Love you! xxx