only human.

a picture i will paint.
so you will understand.
that she was not a saint.
and her life was never grand.
she knew of suffering and pain.
because she felt them often.
and she helped so many without gain.
hoping to make her memories soften.
she smiled brightly to all her friends.
so that they wouldn't dig too deep.
she didnt want them to see their ends.
didn't want to make them weep.
she took her razors late one night.
and cut into her thigh.
she knew it wasn't a pretty sight.
but she didn't want to cry.
in the end she stopped that play.
and now she carries more scars.
to keep her company when she doesn't pay.
for her drinks in all the bars.
you see she moved on a different game.
one that the tolls weren't so glaring.
she moved into bodily shame.
and now they all call her daring.
her friends think she's innocent.
so full of life and verve.
but really her emotions are spent.
and she's lost most of her nerve.
she called for help in scilence.
but no one answered the plea.
and somehow she sensed.
that she could never really flee
so she stood up straight.
and stepped towards her end.
and looked at her friends.
they were her reason for living.
in a cold and cruel world.
she acted sweet and caring.
and never were insults hurled.
she hated ignorance and lies.
she fought for allto be free.
she comforted when people cried.
and helped to make the blind see.
and people yelled and called her saint.
but she wasn't all that grand.
she hated her life, thas why i paint.
so you will all understand.

petina