Little Miss Perfect,

She sits in her room

Wishing that death

Would come take her soon

Little miss perfect,

Her wrists red and scarred

Reflecting her soul

Forsaken and marred

Little miss perfect,

She listens at night

To the sound of her mother

Weeping with fright

Little miss Perfect,

she's told not to cry

to keep a straight face

and she wonders why

Little miss Perfect,

Her eyes red with tears

Cries oh so softly

To ease all her fears

Little Miss Perfect,

Her heart filled with scorn

Covers her feelings

That have yet to be born

Little Miss Perfect

With a knife in her hand

She takes one last glimpse

Of this pain that's began

Little Miss Perfect,

with her head to the sky

Slowly waves back

To her life left behind.

Author's note: This was not a poem that was just "made up." It was inspired
by true emotions and past experiences.