Oceans of salt dripped down her cheeks
She again bashed herself, "why am I so weak?"
She couldn't speak what she felt
So she showed what's its like when your mind is in hell.
Not being able to hold back those dripping feelings made her feel frustrated.
Crying in front of an audience is what she hated.
"Why can't I be strong?", she whined
As a 'cry baby' she was defined.
Her pillow was her savior.
And how typical was that behavior.
It seemed as if her feelings were rejected
Them being called as 'crocodile tears' made her feel dejected.
Her tears held the greatest value
Which nobody could comprehend
Those tears were not just oceans of salt
But her most loyal friend.
