Sometimes when I look in the mirror.
I see a little girl so scared.
I wonder what happened to make her eyes red.
Who made her smile dissapear.
I look into her eyes.
And see her blackend heart.
I wonder who starved it of love.
Until it withered and died.
Shes just another faded piece.
Into the backround of this world.
Another memory to be put away.
Into a box where truth is kept.
Just a reflection thats all she is.
A girl I use to know so well.
Has become a stranger with a broken heart.
A girl with so many scars.
She could of been me.
If it wasnt for the pain.
She takes all the hits.
She was the little girl.
The one with the rosy cheeks.
Who never slep without her blankie.
Who cradle a doll old and broken.
Because it made her feel safe.
Sometimes when I look in the mirror.
I see who I could of been.
What should of happened.
If not for this thing called pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i love this, i understand this, pain is what holds many back