A walking tragedy
Along the street
With lines on her wrists
And a smile on her face.

Her interior beauty
No naked eyes see
Her destroyed exterior
Judged by plenty.

She learnt
To put on masks
As though parading
A life long masquerade.

A passion for the arts:
Her body the canvas
The blade her pen
Crimson red
Staining sheets.

Finally one day
She has had enough
Of leading a life
Akin to drama.

She threw away all masks
And showed her frown
Took the rope
And left the ground.

This beautiful tragedy
Remembered for
Her love & kindness
She didn't knew she possessed.

That's how the world is
A huge tragedy
Of unappreciated beings
Leaving without living.