Accidents

<font face="Times New Roman">That poor lonely girl, She hides her face, In shame & sadness, Too afraid to face the world. She is a living death, Controlled by despair, Immune to pain, She cannot feel anything. That poor lonely girl, She slipped & she's bleeding These "accidents" happen, Too often to be believed. Her heart is still beating, Though emotionally cold, She still feels something, The piercing pressure, of the blade across her wrists.</font>