The Child

Growing up is hard and often there times when some people just choose to just give up.

The child is grown,
The dream is gone.
The heart is cold, 
No longer gold.
The wrist are scarred
By jagged shards,
The heart is broken
From words unspoken.
The noose is tied,
The child has died.
In the morgue their body lies,
Unable to hear their parents' cries.