Painted Image
The scars on your delicate wrist,Tell a story of your past,
How your father abused you,
And how he left you all alone.
Your fingernails,
Pierce your flesh,
Hoping that it would distract your thoughts.
From all of the problems that you faced.
But everyday you painted a smile on your face,
Hoping no one would see your troubles,
Hoping no one would See right through you,
Like open doors.
But i saw your pain and suffering,
I saw right through you,
And i fell in love with you,
Not your painted image,
That was used to satisfy everyone else.
But you turned on me,When i tried to help,
you said i was only a friend,
Nothing more..........
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