Once she used to care,
Used to brush her hair.
She can hear the chatter,
That she used to matter.
And now,
She takes her last bow.
She will never grow,
This is her last show.
She hangs the rope,
But she gains hope.
She will not give Them the satisfaction,
She will take action.
She will hold on to the knife,
Called Life.
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC
Once she used to care,
Used to brush her hair.
She can hear the chatter,
That she used to matter.
And now,
She takes her last bow.
She will never grow,
This is her last show.
She hangs the rope,
But she gains hope.
She will not give Them the satisfaction,
She will take action.
She will hold on to the knife,
Called Life.