'Oh what a beautiful picture!'
       ' Oh what a beautiful girl in it!'

           'Oh yes, a beautiful picture!'
  'Oh what do you about the girl in it?'

    Her eyes betray her ancient grief,
   A new shelter every week; with no      
                    home in between,

Her smile wide, hiding her fears her      
      minds been so with preocupied      
          Would he come in tonight?

     Her cheeks flushed, shamed to be      
                        anoeroxic,
     Afterall, no one likes less than a      
              perfect ***** to be with,

     Her makeup fresh, her scar invisible  
                      underneath it,
   Should have never accepted all those    
             hits and kicks to begin with,

     Her shoulders back; they hurt,
   Her bump showing; eight months to      
       go and she does'nt even know it.

           'Oh yes a beautiful picture!'
           'Oh what a broken girl in it!'

Everybody has a friend they can rely on, and here Iam sitting here in my empty home. I wish I had someone too, there isnt much difference beetwen me and you.

But nobody wants to know who Iam, they're too preocupied with them. So i sit and I walk where once was my home, Thinking how things would be different, if only then Id known.

I don’t think many people bother
To visit the grave of their dead ones anymore
Because they are preocupied with their lives
But therefore the dead doesn’t receive flowers anymore
And their grave are always abandon
And that is the way it appears to be
To me
Trust me it is very sad to see that
One thing that always comes to my mind
Is that
They don’t have any love anymore for the dead
And also respect is totally gone