Laughter. Fake smiles.
Pretty girl. Dead eyes.
Wrists. Crimson tears.
Love. Hatred in mind.
We see, we judge.
Fail to see what's inside.
Every pain has no solution,
every tear is not a lie.
Normal she was,
Fifteen she was then,
when those beasts took her,
filled their hunger with her innocence.
Numb she kept herself,
cried herself to sleep every night,
the razor- a constant companion,
and her pen that would sign death- with crimson
ink.
Violence at home,
and she would be at the receiving end,
silently she would endure,
to save her mother from the pain.
Years five passed,
and her mates thought 'she is okay'
but none could see the pain,
and the scars-fresh and same.
But one day, it broke- her endurance,
her head-all filled with years of pain, hatred and
violence,
shouted, cried- all in vain,
nothing that day could ease her pain.
Its her funeral today,
you can see her parents and brother cry,
they are playing her songs, reading her poems,
but why the show- when you could never know
what she had inside?

Heartfelt good write

loved it!

loved it!

thank you all ! I am not well acquainted to this site ! I am new ! keep waiting for more updates :)

San, your poem is raw and brutally honest...It cuts straight to the heart ...Great job!

Welcome!

How sad and beautiful at the same time.

u can also check my poems named
1.the road I am on
2.lost....
3.last few lines