Who is that girl,
So still on that bed,
Her body so limp,
Her stare so dead.
Where am I?
This place is familiar to me,
My eyesight is fuzzy,
It's so hard to see.
My God, thats my bed!
and the girl... shes me,
Oh Lord, help me,
How can this be?
Mom! Dad!
What's happened to me?
There's pills on the bedside,
The blasting T.V...
Feeling for a pulse,
For a sign of life,
My skin is so blue,
The truth stabs like a knife.
I died for me,
I died for us,
No longer depressed,
No more looks of disgust.
So when they find,
The remains of me,
This note they'll find,
'In memory of me.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Horribly sad poem Kiersten. As a mom, this is very chilling. Sincerely, Mary