The truth

I'm sitting here all alone writing this poem,
Wanting to cry, wishing and hoping that I would die.
No one cares, No one knows,
All the pain that they have caused.
But when I go I wonder if......
If they would care, If they would cry,
Trying to believe that I didn't die.
I'd love to see if they did care,
Cause if they do now,
Their not willing to share.
They never did tell the truth about
all the things they said and told me.
And now they can never tell me,
because I locked myself up and threw away the key.
I wonder if they ever knew that they
were going to kill a friend of theirs.
A simple little and innocent girl,
who thought of her friends as the whole world.
I guess they'll never know,
How much I looked up to them.
Until that one day it all went wrong.
When they turned on me and they thought that they had won.
Maybe they did win,
Cause their hate feels like being stabbed over and over again.