A young girl, a pride and joy of only seventeen,
Lays in a hospital bed - the saddest sight one's ever seen.
Machines to the left of her now control her breath,
While the one to the right beeps - a telling of slow death.

The doctors pace back and forth on the blue-tiled floor,
She looks at me with eyes that say she can't hold on much more.
The cuts have been stitched up, but blood still seeps through,
And she whispers that it hurts, but she didn't know what else to do.

Closing her eyes tight, she takes a deep breath in -
Looking back at it now, that was the moment she let them win.
I ask her why she did it, if there was truly a reason to take her life,
And she explains to me that nobody cared, except for the knife.

With tears threatening both of our eyes, a nurse comes in - shakes her head,
It's only a matter of time before this young girl is left for the dead.
The doctors have done all they can, but she came in too late,
And she'll be gone within the hour at this agonizing rate.

Tears slip from our eyes as I bury my face in my hands,
She smiles at the situation - proving that she accepts, understands.
I look from her to the nurse, and back again at her pale face,
Time is shortening - she's losing life's race.

I apologize for my bad timing, if I had only left work earlier,
I'd be leaving here with my best friend - not the memory of her.
But she smiles at me, a smile that says it's okay,
And speaks her final words; "I deserve more than this town anyway."