She came into this world
By accident.
Never planned,
But her parents
Didn’t regret a thing.
She grew up with
Her hands stretched out,
Hungry for knowledge
And taking in
Everything she
Could reach.
She was only 9 years old,
When she saw both her parents
Screaming at each other.
She didn’t understand,
“Why are mummy and
Daddy fighting?”
She asked as tears
Started to fall from
Her eyes to her
Delicate skin.
Her parents sighed as
They knew it wasn’t
Working out.
Things were crashing down.
She was only 10 years old
When her daddy left her.
As he carried his bags
Out the door,
She cried,
“Where are you going, daddy?”
He left, without a word.
She grew up,
Without love.
She grew up,
Believing that
Love is the problem.
She never trusted love.
She never wanted love.
She never needed love.
She was only 13
When she took
Her first puff
Of cigarette.
She was hoping
That her misery
Would fade away,
Just like the smoke.
She was only 15
When she was suicidal.
Nobody knew about
Her struggles.
Nobody knew
She cried herself
To sleep, wishing everything
Was different and simple.
Her wrist was like
Her own canvas,
Covered with scars,
New and old.
She was drowning,
In her miseries.
All she wanted
Was someone to save her,
Or least teach her
How to swim,
But no one did.
She was drowning,
As she watched
People around her
Minding their own lives.
Till this day,
She’s still
Drowning,
Still
Struggling.
And no one
Cares enough
To save her.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 10:03 AM UTC
She came into this world
By accident.
Never planned,
But her parents
Didn’t regret a thing.
She grew up with
Her hands stretched out,
Hungry for knowledge
And taking in
Everything she
Could reach.
She was only 9 years old,
When she saw both her parents
Screaming at each other.
She didn’t understand,
“Why are mummy and
Daddy fighting?”
She asked as tears
Started to fall from
Her eyes to her
Delicate skin.
Her parents sighed as
They knew it wasn’t
Working out.
Things were crashing down.
She was only 10 years old
When her daddy left her.
As he carried his bags
Out the door,
She cried,
“Where are you going, daddy?”
He left, without a word.
She grew up,
Without love.
She grew up,
Believing that
Love is the problem.
She never trusted love.
She never wanted love.
She never needed love.
She was only 13
When she took
Her first puff
Of cigarette.
She was hoping
That her misery
Would fade away,
Just like the smoke.
She was only 15
When she was suicidal.
Nobody knew about
Her struggles.
Nobody knew
She cried herself
To sleep, wishing everything
Was different and simple.
Her wrist was like
Her own canvas,
Covered with scars,
New and old.
She was drowning,
In her miseries.
All she wanted
Was someone to save her,
Or least teach her
How to swim,
But no one did.
She was drowning,
As she watched
People around her
Minding their own lives.
Till this day,
She’s still
Drowning,
Still
Struggling.
And no one
Cares enough
To save her.
