untitled
This is not related to my story. I found it in my tablet of paper and decided to put it in here.
The voices, the hurtful statements
The confiding of pain, loneliness;
The tears, the sobs that only she hears.
The words always come to her,
helplessness evolves to resolve
but their pain becomes hers.
A girl is crying,
Begging on her knees
and unable to step forward.
No one comes. There are no footsteps.
She crumples, defeated and pathetic,
and sheds her tears of despair.
The words come easily to heal others,
make them see.
But she can never lead them too far
because they'll turn into her.
A bitter, pathetic little girl
with nothing except a hope, a wish
of something that will never come true.
The voices, the hurtful statements
The confiding of pain, loneliness;
The tears, the sobs that only she hears.
The words always come to her,
helplessness evolves to resolve
but their pain becomes hers.
A girl is crying,
Begging on her knees
and unable to step forward.
No one comes. There are no footsteps.
She crumples, defeated and pathetic,
and sheds her tears of despair.
The words come easily to heal others,
make them see.
But she can never lead them too far
because they'll turn into her.
A bitter, pathetic little girl
with nothing except a hope, a wish
of something that will never come true.
