Miss Sheead

by Vic Sheead

Reaching out a hand,
But no-one wants to know,
They just leave me to die,
All alone,
My last breath escapes,
And i send out a prayer.
Wishing all of this pain, all of this despair,
Will die with me,
Leaving my family free.
As I am the curse,
The demons slave,
Lost in his eyes,
They are like darkend caves,
Trying to free myself of these chains,
But insted lose my mind down twisted lanes.
Reaching out a hand,
But no-one wants to know.
Come and watch the freak show,
These bleeding wrists wipped on stone,
Whilst my broken heart, remains so cold,
Without anyone to hold,
Without anyone to love,
No pride,
No hope,
Just death,
At last.