Her skin is dirty
with regret.
No one know whats going on,
in her head.
Reality and fantasy,
swirl in to one.
And the look on her face,
is as clear as depression to see.
Deception fills the air,
and noone cares,
she cant sleep.
The countless tears,
her blackend eyes,
have so far weeped.
The white picket fence,
is keeping me here.
Why is it so much higher,
than it may appear.
The idea of getting over it,
a secret,
deep in the sole.
In time will someone pull her,
out of her engulfing black hole.
To die in that place,
seem such a waste.
Yet to escape,
an impossible task.
And if she did pull the trigger,
oh the questions everyone would as.
She was so young,
so beautiful,
fresh and fun.
How could such a feel spirit,
now be gone.
The white picket fence,
should have been so high,
surrounding,
crowding,
so hard to get by.
A heart to the ocean,
drown in the shallow prairies.
As the church bell rings.
Gods taken another angels,
I hope he gives her wings.
