That Girl Was Me

Here is a poem, for a girl
Who lived behind her lies.
And all she ever was able to see
Were the scars and tears in her eyes.

She always went to cutting
As it solved all her pain.
She lived in the shadows
She lived in all the vain.

She never had a happy life
The odd one out of the bunch.
So that's when the plot came up
During that terrible lunch.

For once a smile came on her face
And she sat there knowing she's dead.
For that same night
A bullet would go through her head.

It was at the strike of midnight
When she made her final stance.
And she pulled the trigger to the gun
And let the bullet dance.

It was in the newspaper
And her soul was finally free.
And as I looked a little closer
I realized that girl was me.