Help Me Please Poem by Ana Henry

Her only friend is the knife,
which might one day cost her life.
Shes all alone on her bed,
thoughts of death run throught her head.
Its time to go,
she sits and cries,
shes all alone before she dies.
The blood seeps slowly down her arm,
'Its the thing they call self harm, '
she slowly stated as the weeped,
' I hate my life, Im through with you,
'I cant stand the things you do.'
The knife drops on the floor the rest is through.
Dad walks in,
'Whats the matter with you? '
but its to late now,
the rest is done, she off to a better place
Her life is gone.