The consequences

Sitting in the car anxious to tell her
But really she already knows
And to let the lie continue is unfair
She looks at her wrist disgusted at the pain she will cause
But the truth at the very least deserves to be known by the driver
"The cuts on my wrist it wasn't from a tree"
She doesn't even have to explain completely
She knew that's all she would have to say
And as soon as these sharp hurtful words are released
She see's her close friend, her sister break
And realizes how much she is cared about
All from the look of her close friend
She knows that her friend, her sister
Is trying to hold it in
But she sees everything break inside of her friend
Like she can hear her heart shatters like a delicate glass that she was holding
And now has dropped it through carelessness
She forces herself to look at her friend to realize the pain she has caused
The look which she knows will be forever engraved in her mind
And soul
A reminder of how people do care about her
And how much she is able to hurt someone
A warning to never do something
Without thinking about the consequences




Poetry by Rachy
Read 799 times
Written on 2010-09-13 at 11:36

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NicholasG
I guess, when we understand consequences, we find freedom, at least of a type.
Nick
2010-09-14