Remember the girl that cried?
Remember when she died?
Remember her parents at the funeral,
Crying and screaming for her to come back?
But, no, she will never revive.
She's gone,
She took her own life.
She's written a story,
Among those many years,
A story that has been forgotten.
She's been inked over in lies,
Cuts and despise,
Oh, how she thought,
Oh, they all hate her.
Her beautiful face,
lies still in a grave,
those sweet, soft lips not speaking.
Her eyes so blue,
the prettiest thing that you'll ever see,
lies six feet under,
dead, but free.
-Tessa Hazzard
