I once knew a girl.
Who forever had scars and cuts upon her arms.
Hope was insribed.
Not in the colour of ink.
But in the colours of the scars.
With stitches on her skin.
Plus tears in her eyes.
And bumpy scars.
Filled with hate and shame.
For whats she done.
But she'll do it again.
She once saw someone.
They asked what is that on your arms.
Ciggerette burns came the reply.
Deep inside the girl was lost.
I once saw myself drowned in tears.
Cant understand the purpose of my being.
For the cuts and scars.
The pain goes so much deeper
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.