Her Last Cry
It's raining and so her eyes, wrapping herself with a blanket to warm her grieving heart. Her hands shaking - hoping you'll hold it 'til the end. She whispered in the dark for you to come back, but you are long way gone. She's in the dark again, but you never care. You told her it's nothing - but honey, it's not. Why deny she's in pain? She's asking for your help, but what did you tell her? "It's not a cry for help, but only seeking attention." So now, blood runs no more in her veins. The blanket she wraps around is soak in red and rust... It's too late now, she has said her goodbyes.