I lust for his lips,
the cherry red pout that makes
life a bit sweeter.

name she coyly said,
lost between pout and cleavage.
need a second chance.

her deep purple lips,
sunset's hues enhance the pout;
promised night's invite

Just another birthday passes-
One thats not celebrated

With all the champagne glasses
And her hair is nicely braided

She doesnt go out
Because of the pain

And she will not pout
Because what will she gain

Shes sits at home all alone
From the bottle she will drink

Like a dog fetching its bone
They both dont stop to think.

I know a girl who's hurting,
But you don't see her cry or pout.
In fact, you'd never know it was her
Unless I pointed her out.

She tries so hard to keep on smiling,
To hide her noose and gun.
But inside, I know she's dialing
Her depression's 911.

All that you can see her as
Is happy, skinny, tall.
But long before you knew her,
Her hopes had begun to fall.

There's still some left of what she was.
Independent, Loving, and Strong.
But there's only so much you can do to cope,
When you've been so sad for so long.

You'd never know she cuts herself
For every sorrow she keeps.
You'd never know that every night,
She cries herself to sleep.

You still think she's so happy?
You haven't reached your goal.
Instead of listening to the stories she tells,
Try listening to her soul.