A Friend and Suicide

Caught up in your looks. As you hide shyly behind you books. To scared to speak. Closed up for about a week. No one to talk to. No one who cares. No one to love you. You know none if this is fair. You cry every night, so you don't cry during the day. Locked up inside, you think of god and pray. Found yourself with a blade, threatening to cut your throat. Reading the poem last night that you wrote. Hating the the smell of roses, laying beside you bed. No one will know, unitl morning.. you'll be dead.

This was a poem I wrote for one of my friends. She killed herself last year and put a copy of this in her coffon so it will always be with her. I'll always be with her.