Falling short of living,
Out of dyings reach...
My hands are bound behind my back
My wrists are now red raw...
Our family has so little,
But we couldn't care less...
By Bee
we'll never get along...
I hate this place.
Its so hard to take...
There are things in life
The public does not know...
Look around
What do you see...
No one ever really ever sees the real flowers of...
And why...
Unfurling the arms of acceptance,
At peace in its warm embrace...
They call her names,
and watch her cry...
Point your fingers, redirect your lies.
As another hopeless person dies...
You look at any magazine today
And you see the people they proudly display...