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The Story

The marks on her wrists Tell a story, Of all her life's troubles; Of how her drunken father beat her, Of how her cheating boyfriend left, Of her mother's drug addiction, And of her death. She was lost In this dark, cruel world, Blinded by the light At the end of the road. She never cried Or talked about her pain. No one cared about her, In her eyes. She left this world Full of hate and sorrow; Never seeing the glass As half full ... But the marks on her wrists Told the story.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things