The teardrops run down,
And fall of her nose,
She cries in dark corners,
Where nobody goes
You can follow the tracks,
From her eyes to her chin,
Years upon years,
Of letting them win,
And her eyes tell a story of anger and pain,
You think that she's happy,
But look again,
Her smile is now painted,
She's a master of disguise,
But you can see it all,
Just look into her eyes.
YOU ARE READING
set me free
Poetrya collection of poems (mostly sad) and random thoughts if lowercase is used, it is intended.
