Well How Do You Feel
In high school everything changes
Teachers, friends, you,
“That’s just life” they say,
And they never stop to ask
“Well, how do you feel?”
And your friends leave, and your grades decrease,
And your teachers begin to worry,
And they make you see a shrink,
But they never stop to ask,
“Well, how do you feel?”
The sky starts to crumble,
And the tears begin to fall,
And music and hoodies become your best friends,
And they never stop to ask,
“Well, how do you feel?”
And the tools come out.
And the objects fall apart,
And you reach for the closest one,
And the ask, finally,
“Well, how do you feel?”
But by now it’s too late.
Your time is up, your blood’s run out,
Your scars show for the world to see,
Cause they asked too late,
“Well, how do you feel?”
“She was so young” they all say,
But really you were old.
You’d seen so much and hurt so much,
It was time for you to go.
So you picked up the pills and washed them down
And grabbed the blades and cut
And when they finally noticed you weren’t around
It was too late you were gone.
They found your letter on the bed
And read it out at school
“You asked to late, but I don’t blame you.”
And your friends were moved to tears.
In your tree house in the yard
They found you pale as snow
Your eyes closed, a smile on your face
And they realized you were gone.
They roll up your sleeves and roll up your pants
And scream at what they see
Lines, and lines, and lines of cuts
Some healed and some not.
And they realized they should have asked in the beginning
How you felt that is, cause,
Honestly you didn’t,
You didn’t feel anything at all.
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