The teardrops run down
And fall off 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 she's happy but just look again
And the scars of her past
Hidden under her clothes
Are roadmaps to places that nobody knows
Her smile is now painted
She's a master at disguise
And you can see it
all just gotta look at that one place is hidden
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
