My sister was an amazing poet. She wrote everything she felt, emotions and physical hurt. Recently, my mother found her hanging from the ceiling holding this in her hand:
Ropes and broken hearts
Why did you run away,
Regret me, neglect me in that way.
I gave you my heart, what did you do?
You broke it into two.
I'm questioning myself, am I that ugly?
As I grab the rope snuggly.
I've never cried like this, I never haven't.
It's sad, it's tragic.
I wish you could see
I wish you would love me!
But I should have known,
You would never love me so.
This is the end, I could never bear,
Being without you my dear.
Please just one last request may I share?
Don't break another heart, as I kick the chair.