some of us, they are visible
but no one seems to care
some of us, its deep within
all the tears we hold in
some of us come home to abuse
scarred to face the back of his hand
some of us go home to the blade
and as the blood drips down our arms
we think of the life we are set to live
some of us can change it
finally speak up
some of us can only wait
living day by day
some of us cry to sleep