Poem Hunter


Poem By Eudora M.A.S.S.A.

Everyday of her life
She walks around
Walking through the halls
Staring at the ground...

She doesn't have a confidant.
She is all by herself
She goes home at night
And takes her diary off the shelf...

She writes down what happened
What went down that day
You can tell the days she cried
Because the drops don't go away...

If you look on every page
You can see little stains
You see where the ink ran
The memory remains...

In this little memoir
She writes what's on her mind
And no one really knows
All the pain that is behind...

Behind every story
Every single poem she wrote
Behind her pretty smile
Behind her suicide notes...

No one really new
And no one really cared
I don't think anyones life
Could really be compared...

Her family was oblivious.
As were her best friends.
She wrote her last story
About the life she would soon end...

She wrote it in the book
On the hard back cover
Cause the pages had been filled
With what people would soon discover...

They would finally get to read
All the storyies that she wrote
About the things she went through
They would read every single note...

Her last entry was dated
It's the last day of her life.
One sentence is all she wrote
'Now I'm not alive....'

By the time someone found her
She was soaking in her blood.
The book was there beside her
Also soaking in the flood...

A week has passed,
But the book was never read.
Until someone found it
Three days later they were dead...

They killed themselves
Because of the guilt they felt.
They never realized.
They never helped.

Every mean person reading this
Who likes to taunt and tease...
Remember her story,
Remember her tears.

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