I run, I hide.
I ditch from glee;
But not no more, just can't you see?
I use to think it made me better.
To cut on through it, to make it wither.
Looking back just helped bad weather.
It broke my mother, hurt my father.
Lost great friends up till the end.
No wonder why I took much breakdowns.
Things just happen, I can't change that.
Scars stained deep just shouldn't phase me.
'Cause I love me, from lessons learned.
It makes me, me;
And don't you blame it.
JACKAZZ SWANER Community Member 
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