They Know Nothing

They know nothing of the tears
that she cried when she's alone
They know nothing of the scars
that she hid when she was home
They know nothing of the pleas
that she moaned when she dreams
They know nothing of the words
that she said when she screams

They know nothing of the voices
that kept playing in her head
They know nothing of the knife
that lay underneath her bed
They know nothing of the hatred
that was hidden in her eyes
They know nothing of the secrets
of her rage and her lies

They know nothing of her poems
and her mutilated thoughts
They know nothing of her problems
and the battles that she fought
They know nothing of the sorrow
that she always kept inside
They know nothing of her mind
and the reason why she died