There once was a girl named cara,
Who was abused, and teased, and hurt.
One day she began cutting her wrists,
Because of her lack of self worth.
She made little cuts on her forearms,
She cut little slits in her wrists.
But soon, the cuts became deeper,
She saw more and more scars, bit by bit.
Now she can't go a day without her razor,
Her friends stopped asking what's wrong.
She forgot what it's like to be happy,
And she's hoping it won't be too long.
Til she leaves the world which she hates so,
Til she's done with the tears and the pain.
She's tired of hiding and faking,
One more day, and she might go insane.
So that night, on the floor of her bathroom,
She makes one cut, the deepest one yet.
She silently weeps as she bleeds more and more,
Awaiting her inevitable death.
But the next thing she knows, she's awakened.
She walks down the stairs just to hear-
Her mother and father are weeping,
Crying out- "Why can't she be here?!"
"We loved our dear Cara so much!
We thought she had such a great life!
But while we were living so ignorantly,
Our little girl was planning suicide."
This little girl, feeling alone and afraid,
Went to sleep for the very last time.
She had no clue how loved she was,
Until the night that she died.
*My poem, copyrighted. Feel free to share or repost, but you must leave credit.*
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