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Down to the valley to pray.
She mixes her pills together
And drinks them with a quiet swig
The people she thought she knew
Didn't turn out to be the right ones
Yea she's ******** up.
Yea she's lonely.
She called for help
But no return
Just those people
Who had their turn.
She grows silent evermore
As the experience grows
Five pills down
A million more to go.
Her glass is getting empty
And she can't fill it up
She needs someone to help her
Not say that she's ******** up.
To take responsibility
She's only a young child
Her life is waiting for her
The life she'll never reach.
No one to hear her laughter.
Nor her final speech.
She's looking all around her
But no one does she see.
As she takes one last breath
Her final words are heard
So lost and lonely,
'That ******** up girl is me.'
There's six broken words in this, but together they become one. One without warning, two with love and care, three that warms your heart.
But one sentence alone, and someone to play the part. We can't all have sunshine in a bag, we can't all play the perfect person. We can't all apologize right. And most of all, we can't all live forever.
[Let's write love on our arms together....before it's too late.
 nangal · Sat May 02, 2009 @ 05:23am · 0 Comments |
