As the world would give her Nothing ' but sadness,
She decided to vent out her emotions
She searched for ways,
Art, Poem, Diary throughout the days.
She looked upon her old works of art,
For that may heal the broken part,
But she couldn’t find the painting she deared,
Again Nothing but tears.
Has someone thrown it?
Thinking of it as shit?
Could they have thought,
How much love it brought?
How she had treasured it over the years,
But in the end, She gets Nothing ' but tears
Is this fair?
She made it for the people she loved,
And they didn't knew how many feelings it bare.
Alone in a room,
Which seems like a doom.
She vents out her feelings in another type of art,
Which will be again added to her cart.
Silently, She wished somebody hears,
Her quiet Nothing but tears. . .
She was waiting for His love to come back to her soon, as she’ll ask him….
If I'm crying, can I use your shoulder?
Or will you take my hand and show me
your collection of jars stored with
my years of tears?
Will you show me each year
and tell me the stories behind them?
Will we go through each tale to
I'm crying again?
Will you dry my wet eyes and tell me
you have no more room for my tears?
Will you delete my broken memories
to I have no need to cry again?
