Alone in her room she wrote a poem
all the pain that was not yet her own.

Hideous moments
glorious nights
she faced the darkness all alone
lies are perceived
and the truth still remains to be told.
Is she able to solve all her problems alone?
Why does her trained surface fail to disguise the things inside?
Why can't her feelings she hide?

A moment without the light that never fails to shine;
(you never seem to consider its source)
your life is a disaster, emotions run deadly
sorrow overlaid by the need to lash out
drowning desires to shout
ignoring the heart that speaks so loud.

Your judgment is clouded
loyalty obliterated
destiny, do you still have a choice?
Will past decisions ever lose their hold?
Will endearing love leave you standing in the cold?
The girl should have considered the proceedings
before the bottle touched her lips
for all it took was a single slip
behind life's wheel
for all the pain she wrote that was not yet her own
to seem so real.