Escape

November 3, 2010
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She cries oh she cries.
The mirror reflects her tear filled eyes.
Another night deprived of sleep.
Another day that she wont eat.
On her wrist another wound.
Not dead yet but will be soon.
Her heart slow, barely beating.
She cries and keeps on bleeding.
A stormy night and no one knows,
the feelings she tries hard not to show.
Her wrists hanging from her bed.
When her parents come in, she'll be dead.





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JohnnyTheSilverAngel said...
Dec. 8, 2010 at 11:35 am
Hm,interesting poem.I could visualize the setting and all.This seems like a personal poem...I could be wrong but none the less,it's still very good.Keep at it.
 
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