Pretender

I look at your face in my picture frame,
Your smiling at the camera somethings never change,
I remember that night I walked into your room,
The lights were low a sense of
gloom,

I turned on the lights and saw you on the floor,
Covered in a pool of blood you said your hands were sore,

I wanted to scream but no words would come out,
Just a hundred tears or so came rushing past my mouth,

I picked up the knife that took your life away,
I pressed it against my hands and said goodbye to day,

Two different blood types mingled on the ground,
Something touched my hands and I heard a funny sound,

Now I look at a newly dug grave and the shadow of my friend,
It was then that I realised she was only playing pretend...