The Final Flight

by Jessica Root
(Colchester)

Written like a bleeding rose,
No one see's the blood stained clothes.
A knife that slices through her wrist
The last young boy, she had kissed.

He smiled at her with love and lust
and now her heart has turned to dust.
They don't know she's dying inside
The last few days she tried to hide

She slashed her hair,
but no one would care,
how her life is slipping away,
She wonders if her true love will meet her half way.

It's death by love,
The little white dove,
That'll watch her die,
Then fly to the sky.

Hell or heaven no one will know,
Until she will perform her final show.
Hanging, slitting what shall she do?
When she's finished no one will have a clue.