Who is really there to care
Whether or not I choose to scar?
White flesh burned hot red,
Endless thoughts are inside my head.
Memories twist, cruel forever,
Stopping any brave endeavor.
Words pierce sharp like glass,
Wilting me like fire scorched grass.
Silent dreams will never be heard;
In every couple, I am third.
Hurting inside, a forever grief,
Yet they always say life is brief.
If soon, I cannot see the dawn,
Then soon they’ll hear my dark swan song.