Broken GlassMature

Pieces of broken glass

All over the ground

Stained red with blood

But no one's around

No one's around to see her

To hep her through the hurt

So she'll hurt herself

Leaving blood trails in the dirt


Carved into her arm

The words she finds gross

Perfect little lines

Cut right where it hurts  most

As blood drips down her arm

And she starts to cry

The only thing she wonders is

Why me God, why?

The End

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