Scars that won't go away.
Reminders that stay, and never go away.
Friends that don't understand taht once you had a blade at hand.
And still wants its attack.
Why is this fact so hard?
I know I can put it down for good, but I feel so weak.
Maybe I am.
But this act is old.
My heart I sold.
Now I feel so cold, and alone.
So these reminders stay and never go away.
Friends don't understand that the blades back at hand.
11/10/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem