NightFae Posted March 10, 2006 Report Posted March 10, 2006 She pulls her hair back In a pretty barrette And throws to the ground Her last cigarette She says to the world "Au revoir, adios," And puts the blade to her skin, As white as a ghost The blade sinks in deep, Blood starts to pour Now she wants it back As the blood hits the floor She wants her life back, And she starts to cry But it's too late... She's going to die.
Sweetcherrie Posted March 11, 2006 Report Posted March 11, 2006 Not a very happy poem, and I like the fact how the person in the poem actually realizes that life is too precious to throw away. Even though it is too late in the poem, I think that people that sometimes feel less happy with how things are going might simply feel that little halt there is in this poem....that little lesson to learn so to speak, stop before it *is* too late. Thank you for posting this, and I hope it has helped to write some of the feelings out
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