She knows there's nothing she can do
so alone at night she cries...
She cries so no one can hear
in the darkened silence of her room,
she cries for what's lost,
for what she can't change,
for whom she can't help,
for what she became...
An overwhelming feeling of
guilt, of sadness of the unhappy
wasted years of her life, she wipes her tears as
they slide to her lips, tasting the saltiness
of the wet streams that slide there...
But when morning dawns she cleans her face, putting on
the familiar pretentious smile, nothing wrong here she says to herself
knowing that night will befall with it's heavy grip once again
refusing to let go...