the scars are there
most people cant see
from head to toe
they are all over me

the wounds in my back
they will not heal
the cold steel knifes
i can still feel

after the blades were inserted
they were twisted and turned
its true - of my death
my enemies yearned

they have yet to remove
a single knife
in hopes that one
will take my life

i have become numb
because of the pain
i stand in a puddle
as my "friends" watch my blood drain

when will he die
they whisper and grin
not soon enough
lets stab him again






















































to my face
 they are nice and polite
but when i turn my back
their true nature comes into light