Broken Child

The broken child lays alone,
In this place called her home,
Lays in her bed oh so cold,
Laying alone with no one to hold.

The broken child with broken wrists,
One day she'll sorely missed,
The pain was too much to keep inside,
She was so sick of having to hide.

The perfection was all just a lie,
Deep inside she wanted to cry,
Having to no one to hold her hand,
And having to live up to there demmand,

Broken child sings her song,
Of how things went so very wrong,
As the blood drips onto her bed,
Now she can finally rest her head.

Alone the broken child sings,
Surrounded by her burning wings,
She closes her teary eyes,
She killed herself without a goodbye.

Broken child full of pain,
Sicking of seeing faces so vain,
Finally she is being set free,
From the reflection, free from me.