She cuts, she bleeds, <br />the blood drips to her knees, <br />Drip, drip, drip, onto the ground, <br />Tap, tap, tap, but still no sound. <br /> <br />With the scissors in her hands, <br />In the corner she now stands, <br />The red glow from under the door, <br />Slowly, she falls to the floor. <br /> <br />The anger is coming out, <br />All she can do is shout, <br />Go away! Go away! Go away! <br />Yet the anger still stays. <br /> <br />Supressing these thoughts, <br />All these years she has fought, <br />With her head in her arms, <br />Crying for help, she demands. <br /> <br />But no one is there to listen, <br />To see the blood with which she is christened, <br />Still in this mix-up of confusion, <br />Nothing is an allusion. <br /> <br />Fear, paranoia, worry, <br />She is so sorry, <br />She may be alive, <br />But for happiness, she strives. <br /> <br />The depression, the anger, the ire, the rage, <br />No more is it locked in a cage, <br />These thoughts struggling in her head, <br />Emotionally, she is now dead.<br /><br />Nicole McDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-remains-but-is-gone/
