Why do they slice there wrists?
When I see a fresh cut...
My heart drops,
As I start to think its getting better,
But NO! You have to let me see the fresh mark,
I think back,
Young a cheerful,
Now what have we come to?
NO!
Wat can we do?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what are you trying to say here?