This Isn’t the Way

I held the knife so close to my heart,
Like a foolish child, I sat and cried,
Didn’t realize what I had done, what I had tried,
Tears mixed with blood, falling slowly to the ground,
Covered in blood, pulled myself up, and in tears scribed:
To those who don’t care,
To those who don’t see,
Never give up,
Always strive to be free.
Didn’t know how many people would later cry,
Tried to be free, yet this isn’t the way,
Friend at the door, ran as fast as she could,
Too weak to say sorry, otherwise I would,
In tears, looked at the sad day,
When you come and see the blood and me,
This isn’t the way my life was meant to be.