It's times like these, late at night,
When her happiness doesn't seem to shine as bright,
She would pick up her razor, hide in her room,
And hope that noone would see her gloom,
"One more cut will do no harm,
I promise it won't be too deep in my arm,
It will make no difference," she always said,
"It won't keep me up once I've gone to bed,
I will go to sleep and forget it all,
And dream of the day that the bullies will fall,"
Except it would never end that way,
But with tear stained cheeks she'd wish her life away,
Huddled under her covers, trying to stop the blood flow,
She never thought that her life would get that low,
And it's hard for outsiders to understand,
That all she really needed was a helping hand,
Someone to tell her to lift her head high,
And remind her these were things she couldn't deny,
To give her a hug when she was feeling down,
And to turn her face into a smile from a frown,
So when you see that girl with the scars on her wrist,
Make sure, like the others, she's not simply dismissed,
Be the one that makes sure she puts down that knife,
For all you know, you might save her life...