She had to get it out
So she would write in her notebook
And she would write
And write
And write all of her pain away
Until the only place it exist is on the page

One day
Someone found her pain
They read between the lines
It opened his eyes
He tried to get help
Or would of I suppose
If she didn't walk up
And told him not to go
"There only poems
They mean nothing to me"
But if he lifted up her sleeve
He would of seen her pain
But he let go
" she said she was ok"
Even though he saw in her eyes she was lying
He didn't want to get into it
It's her problem not mine
A few weeks later he went to her funeral and cried
you told me you where ok!
It's your fault not mine!
You deserved to die!
After screaming people stared in dismay
So he was escorted back to his seat
And he wrote down his pain
And he would write and write and write
All of his pain away
Paying one day
Someone would see his pain
And read between the lines
Realize he's not ok