She put on her yellow rain boots, she weared that fake smile again. She took her black notebook, full of poems writen in blue ink. And with her broken silver neckless she went to the park, while the storm arrived, while the sky turned grey, while everyone went home. She stayed. Because she wanted to cry, and she had learn, that to cry, is better not to be alone. And the sky, was the best conpany she knew.
