Too Late

Sitting alone she wonders
how her life could have
gone so wrong.

Not having a hold of anything
She does, she asks herself
is there something wrong with me.

So cold and lonely she
sits at home not feeling
wanted by anyone.

Betrayed by those she loved,
Who can she turn to know?
Nobody understands how she feels.

The inviting blade lies
On the ground, she
Grabs the blade and starts to slice.

Deeper and deeper the blood
Runs down her arm,
She cries but no one hears.

Can this be? The blood is
Flowing freely now,
She has gone too deep.

Her parents walk in
And see the pale, cold
Figure on the ground.

Too late to comfort her.
Too late to stop her.
Too late to say she is their world.