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Broken

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Jeans and hooded sweatshirts

the clothes you hide within

afraid that you'll get hurt,

your heart's made out of tin.

 

No one seems to see,

what you can really offer.

you're not who you want to be.

you wish that you were tougher.

 

Your house feels like a prison

and your school is even worse.

Your covered in tears and crimson,

your life feels like curse.

 

The teachers never notice

the slits under your sleeves

you can't seem to focus.

 If only  you could leave.




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