I need depth, emotion and intrigue
I need love, life and greed
I need the right amount of everything
To create the perfect story you need.
I need light, mystery and guts
I need horror that’d drive you nuts
I need darkness and light alike
To get their interests to spike up.
I seem to have the story you want
It has everything typed in the right font
It has beauty, sadness and grief
And some happiness if you play along.
See, I used to know a girl who liked to play and read
She had read everything she got, from love to life and greed
She was not always the most likeable
But I knew her through and through, indeed.
She was born on a fine November morning
It was a happy day and had everything
You see it was a normal happy family
But it was snatched in the very beginning
You see, her father died in a car crash
And suddenly everything they had was trash.

Because their life had lost their purpose
And the wound that seemed to last
It was a sad story, but she was just a month old
A girl who hadn’t known her father, a sight to behold
Her mother was a good woman. She did the right thing
She remarried, deciding to forget who she had been
You see it was a new happy family, with a mom a dad
And a daughter. Who was about to see the unforeseen.
You see, she had a sister now, it was the happiest day ever
She knew she’d give her all she had and never say never
She danced and sang and let her happiness flow
But it is true that she didn’t know what was about to hit her.
And as they say, life goes on, it did go on in a haze
The next thing she knew she recalled was worse than seeing ones grave
You see, her new dad wasn’t that great of a person
And she knew she had to be brave.
They separated. Now it was just the three girls
Who needed to stick together like the beads of pearls.
Their boat seemed to sail quite well
But only she knew they had a hole.
They were falling apart and there was no going back
It was too late to make amends for the stuff they lacked
Like love, affection, care, understanding. That made a family
There was nothing to help her out of it and suddenly it was all black.

All the pieces she had left of her own soul,
She tried fixing it but she never found it whole.
You see, each piece died every day, bit by bit
As she got dragged deeper into the hell hole.
I guess you couldn’t quite understand the story
It wasn’t about, love, heartbreak or glory
It was just a messed up life. Like an unsolvable puzzle
Whose pieces were lost and no one cared to get to know it.
This story is incompelete. No one knows who did what
All we know is that she didn’t really deserve what she got.
It confuses me till this day. Where did it all go wrong?
I guess she never gave up but just fought and fought
And life took the toll.
She liked writing stuff down
About random things and towns
The places she’d been to
In reality, and in imagined front views
Her poetry was metaphoric and true
But people around her never even knew.
She was no Taylor Swift writing what’s on her mind
No one read between her lines.
No one tried to find meaning in what she wrote
Just some “wows” and “nice” and sarcastic jokes.
Her metaphors were beautiful,

She had a way with words and tinted hues

But she was not writing about unrequited love

The only poems they read today and learn
But yet her heart was broken
Because there was nothing in her life undone
Not from receiving love and then losing
But from being told that it was love and then proving,
That it wasn’t actually love, or lack thereof.