Cascading down the window pane
teardrops in the form of rain
slowly being to stain
these flushed cheeks in vain.
Everyone's always yelling
their pathetic ego's swelling.
Not realizing she's dwelling
too much on the stories they're telling.
Little more than fables
that leave her heart unstable
as she picks up the blade from the table.
The sanity cable
has been cut, leaving her with a label.
A label of depression.
All due to the oppression.
Nobody knew of her little obsession
with the knife, never did she go to confession.
She was afraid and lost
being nothing but bossed
around, at the walls she was tossed.
Her life being the ultimate cost.
