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Pencil in her hand
thoughts upon the paper
she draws to escape
turning all distraught into vapor
drawn with perfection
to rid dysphoric thoughts
of all the minds tricking alterations
to this young girl
twas a place to call home,
twas a place for her, and for her alone.
So weary with grief
she tries to keep up
her mind becomes stricken
which plants her in a rut
the pencil, her friend
her minds releasing amend
will draw her a place
to a place of play
all to this childs mind
will draw her far away.
Fingers relax,
pencil drops to the floor
tranquility found
all thoughts are at the door
Away from the hurt
and from the tears
now at peace
in this secret place
to conceal all her fears
for why live a life
striving to survive
all is better now,
in a simple art of suicide.
 Faeteeth · Fri Oct 17, 2008 @ 07:48am · 0 Comments |
