Wrist Cuts

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem I wrote about two of my dearest friends.

Submitted: April 10, 2009

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Submitted: April 10, 2009

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Dear? Why do you do that? Cast wicked scars upon your limbs just so you can feel again?

My friend? It's not right, it's not okay. Life doesn't have to be this way. Self-inflicted pain is not a good path. Neither is loosing your life to a psychopath.

Cherished? Why do you not cry? Why do you want to feel yourself die?

Dearest? I told you again and again I'm always here. You can talk with me and I won't gawk. I would never say scornful words; Or feed your soul to death-like birds.

Friend? Why did it have to end this way? You losing the will to smile and say "I'm okay"? Why did you have ro slip away? Life doesn't have to be gray.

Dear? Life goes on and I sit alone. I miss my best friend and all those times. Laughing and smiling were the best days ever. I just wish you didn't have to fade away.


© Copyright 2017 Angel of Misery. All rights reserved.

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