Beauty Of An Unknown Girl

I lock myself in the old white room,
Surely I will die very soon.
I sit there tucked in a ball,
Ignoring my mothers worrying calls.
All that have with me in my room is a pack of Felt pens,
Altogether there are ten.
I write my heart, my life, my soul on the wall,
I have even wrote a poem on the back of the door.
My body will not sustain life that long,
And all these words will tell my story when I'm gone.
For I feel I am no longer beautiful,
But on my wall there is beauty from an unknown girl.

P.s- This isn't true. Just my crazy mind and imagination.