She walked off the bright yellow bus,
Ignoring the past fuss.
They all seemed to hate her,
For what she did not know,
But she was soon to see her blood flow.
From all the pain she took,
You couldn’t blame her for taking her book,
And pulling out her shiny blade.
She pulled out this innocent blade,
To watch her pain fade.
Some had seen those scars left,
But most just passed on by,
Knowing they had once told her a lie.
She knew this too,
For she just got up and flew,
She rushed to the bathroom,
Taking that blade once more,
And at her skin she tore.
Her pain was soon to disappear,
Or so she thought.
She forgot this temporary fix,
Meant sooner or later she would be caught.
She didn’t know it would be so soon,
For she was listening to a sad tune,
But that teacher walked in,
She noticed what was within.
She had seen the blood drops on the floor,
She walked over and opened the stall door.
She gasped at the horror,
She saw the blood dripping to the floor.
She grabbed the girl’s arm,
She took her to the nurse,
They both looked into her purse.
They found the blades,
They took them and threw them away.
The girl just sat there,
Not believing this was reality,
Knowing they didn’t really care.
The nurse kept asking why,
She kept checking the scars,
The cuts,
She kept asking this poor little girl for an explanation,
But all the girl had was her contemplation.
The nurse called the girls parents,
But her parents were to busy to come,
She just couldn’t understand exactly what the cuts were from.
No one understood,
No one seemed to think,
This poor innocent girl could,
Do something so horrific to her own skin,
But they didn’t know what pain she held within. |
