by Nick Gisburne
I saw you as a sister, as a friend
The years we spent together mattered most
But that is where this fairytale must end
With whispers in the winter, to a ghost
You never shared the suffering beneath
The shameful secrets, taken to your grave
But every body buried on the heath
Reminds me of a soul I did not save
Your diary, depictions of a fiend
Was written by a mind I thought I knew
I saw the signs, but never intervened
Oblivious to everything, to you
The evidence was crushing, cold and clear
And that is why you had to die, my dear
