She sits in her corner, doesn't want to see their faces.

All they say is that she's a big disgrace.

She looks at her wrists, all covered in ink.

The wrists of an angel, an angel whose weak.

They never really told her houw much they loved her.

The truth is inside, they never did.

She sits there all day, all night, and morning.

She'd hide by herself when it was storming.

They never understood why her heart was broken.

They just ignored her through the good and bad weather.

She'll never remember what really happened.

They go on and on and all she has to say is that I'm sorry for the way I am.

You guys hate me.

I didn't mean to be born.

I would leave this world but I don't know how.

Just give me a chance.

That's all I'm asking for.

It's okay mommy, keep on walking out that door.

She sits there all day looking at her wrists.

And she goes on wondering, how could I be like this?

What did I do?

Why do I deserve this?

No one understood why her heart was truly broken and for the rest it remains unspoken.