One cut,
Two cut,
Three cut,
Four,
She's just about ready to shut the door,
It's too late,
Her bloods on the floor,
She left no note,
She didn't say goodbye,
She just drifted along to the other side,
People want answers,
They want the truth,
But they won't find either until they look through,
Her diary is filled with the things they want,
But they just want to blame others for her suicidal thoughts,
You see,
It was her mind that did it,
It held up a wall to hide the truth,
It told her she was worthless, and fat, and truly no good,
And she listened enough to leave as fast as she could,
It no ones fault except her own,
Because her mind told her she was all alone,
****************
So here her friends stand,
Over her grave,
With the tears in their eyes that she once took away,
They loved her so, with all their might,
They were the last ones to see her that lonesome night,
They feel it was their fault that she died,
They never told her how pretty she was until she was dead,
