Knife

62 11 3
                                    

The boy would always cut himself with a knife.
It was because he didn't want to live his life.
A life with no one to love or trust.
To his the cutting wasn't a should but a must.

It wasn't the pain that bothered him.
But the shame that made him feel so paper thin.
The boy just wanted his life to end.
That was until he met his friend.

His friend was normal like all of us.
She then became his priority must.
You could see them playing on the street.
But when she left you could hear him weep.

One day she had to move away.
That was when things didn't go his way.
The boy just didn't want to live his life.
That was when he brought back the knife.

One day she had to move away.
That was when things didn't go his way.
The boy just didn't want to live his life.
That was when he brought back the knife.

PoemsWhere stories live. Discover now