The Solution

Once upon a time
There was a little girl
Who loved to sit and rhyme
It was her favorite thing in the world

She sat with paper and pen
All night and all day
Then she just filled her thoughts in
And let the ink guide the way

This little, innocent child
Has become a hurt young woman
She hides the pain behind a smile
And does everything she can

To hide the things she feels
She doesn't like the attention
So her heart she simply seals
With only good intentions

When she thinks about the bane
She doesn't usually dwell
She'll just try to ignore this pain
And hope no one else can tell

She has come to a conclusion
The only way she can subsist
She somehow has found the solution
By slitting her wrist

~x~x~x~x~x~x~X

Don't worry...
I'm not sad anymore, I guess.
I'm just still somehow enjoying
reminiscing about the past.