Self harmers are just angels
Waiting to go home.
They scar their skin,
Because they feel alone.
They cut and scrape,
And bruise all day.
To make sure
They'll go away.
So self harmers are just angels,
Wait for an end.
And nothing will stop them,
And they'll never try to mend.
YOU ARE READING
The song of the unfortunates
PoesiaA collection of poems about lots of different matters.
