Suicidal Poem

I was looking through a magazine when something caught my eye. A picture of a girl, the words "attempted suicide." The photograph was taken on the day she turned sixteen. The story told of how the very next day she O.D'd. Her face no longer innocent, determined to conceal a pain so deep she made herself believe could not be healed. She dressed in only black, and when her father asked her why she said "I make myself ugly because that's how I feel inside. Tangled in a web of sin, religion played its part so she found her love in heroin and worshipping the dark. The day she turned sixteen she sat up in her room alone and vented all her anger through a suicidal poem. The next night as she closed her eyes, the needle in her vein, she closed the door behind her on a world of only pain. Her mother in a storm of tears, her father broken down when they find her in her bedroom, laying naked on the ground. They blame themselves unbendingly, determined that they've failed. The train they've tried so hard to steer has finally derailed. They stand beside the bed as she's unconsciess in her sleep. The doctor says she's fighting for a life she wants to keep. Hope can be a crutch, but sometimes hopes not what it takes when its not the leg that's broken, but inside when something breaks.