Untold/Too Late

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about self mutalation.

Submitted: November 03, 2007

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Submitted: November 03, 2007

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Untold


The pain they see in her facial expression.

They see a past of heavy tears and a secret life of living in lies and deep in depression.

Her skin is pale,her lips are blue,her nails are brittle, and her hands are stiff and cold.

They see her scars,scrapes,cuts,and brusies.

All these markings are just a story left untold.

She was always quiet,Socially away, alone in her shell.

But alone at every night she would be,

On the bathroomfloor puking every word she wanted to tell.

She had friends, who she tried and make understand.

But would they?

No.
They'd laugh and think it was all pretend.

She just wanted someone to tell her every thing would be all right.

Crying and self mutalation

Were the only things that would put her sound asleep at night.

As they see her body laying dead on the floor,Some thought to themselves"Why?"

Others guess that something whispered to her in her ear "die."

The funeral will go on and the truth will never show.

Because the story behind the scars,scrapes,cuts,and brusies,

Was left untold.


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