Jane Doe

You never spoke to her,
Yet she knew who you were.
You never helped her up from the floor,
You never thanked her for holding the door.
You didn't know her life at home,
She sat in the dark, alone.
You made fun of her clothes,
And the sunglasses she chose.
She wore them to hide her abuse,
Because of her father's short fuse.
She wore long sleeves,
Hiding the marks he'd leave.
You never knew the pain she went through,
How he beat her black and blue.
She wanted to escape,
Be six-feet-under the landscape.
She picked up a knife,
The cold steel felt right.
Should she keep going?
She hated not knowing.
She pressed the blade deeper,
Holding hands with the reaper.
Blood has been shed,
Deep dark red.
She lies down, accepting her fate,
Not knowing how long she'd need to wait.
She closed her eyes,
She was ready to die.
So fuck the world,
Let everything go cold.