*I was inspired to write this from a picture I saw...
*so everyone knows, this poem is about a woman who...

There is nothing
There is no heart...

I sit here at my computer
Writing, word after word...

Tick, tick, tick
Listen to the clock's chime...

I walk slowly through the hall
As people sit crying on the floor...

I don't keep my hair neat
I usually tie it back...

This is the story of Andy Lynch
Not the nicest kid of all...

When you open a scab
A new one comes in...

She didn't know just what to do
Her thoughts were too much to handle...

Do her bruises not affect you?
Do you really think she fell...

It's happening again to you
This problem you can not bare...

It wasn't her, it was him
He's the one who held that blade...