i look in the mirror
i see this little girl
looking straight
back at me
i wonder what she
is thinking about
is she really hurting
inside or is it just on
the outside she puts the
knife against her wrist and
i look away and say, 'don't
do it please, its not going to
help you, it is going to make
matter worse.' but it is to late
oh lord what have i done
where is the real ME.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem