The Writer

April 7, 2018
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The victim was a writer,
But not the kind you’d think
She used a razor as her pencil,
Her blood as her ink,
She carved her skin to tell us all,
The pain she held deep inside,
She couldn’t take this world any more,
So she left her life behind,
Though if someone had noticed,
Or she decided to speak out,
Her story would’ve ended,
And she could’ve taken another route,
Now she’ll never get a happy ending,
Her life ended with a sudden shock,
Depression had her captured,
Controlled by  key and lock,
It told her she was worthless
There was no value to her soul,
But she was perfect how she was
To others, that was known
She is an empty term
But it can be replaced with many names
There is an increase in suicide
Depression is to blame
But depression can be treated
So don’t give up so soon
There’s hope for everyone out there
That includes all of you
So if you are suffering
Please reach out
You are worth it
To that, there is no doubt






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