She's waited, to not be ignored.
She's waited, to finally be noticed.
She's waited all her life, but she doesn't exist.
She's waited only to find that you don't care.
Well, what if she doesn't care either?
What if she disappeared?
What if she, suddenly, wasn't there?
What if you really did care?
Maybe she's invisible to you.
Maybe she's never going to catch your attention.
Maybe she doesn't want your attention, but she does.
Yet, she has nothing to give.
She has done nothing important
So why does she try so hard?
She doesn't want to be ignored.
She doesn't want to be forgotten.
She doesn't want to die,
But your pushing her toward him.
The reaper waits, waits for her.
The knife cuts slowly, blood keeps spilling.
A pool forms, and a poem is written.
Splashed with blood, it is read.
"To be ignored,
is like disappearing all together," the last line reads.
Ignored for eternity, if far more heavy.
