I look down at a girl on the ground,
Her long brown hair a sloppy mess,
Her jeans and t-shirt torn to shreds,
Blood-like tears running from her eyes,
Shining red against her cold white face.

I saw how this girl with red tears met her demise,
She had jumped off of her school's roof,
Fell through a few trees and bushes,
Before she finally landed in the middle of a flowerbed,
Her neck snapping on impact.

I guess she could take it no longer,
I guess she had a tough life,
I guess she was stressed by her grades,
But I will never truly know why she jumped,
For I did not know this girl with red tears.

Students and teachers came running over with shock,
Some of her friends called out her name,
A teacher check for a pulse but found none,
His head shaking gently as he told everyone that she was gone,
One girl having clear tears streak her face.

The girl with clear tears falls to the ground and begins to crawl,
Wrapping her arms around the corpse of the girl with red tears,
Her whole body shaking as she sobbed on her dead friend's shoulder,
Her trembling mouth trying to speak out some words,
"I'm so sorry that I didn't make it on time, Ana . . ."

It was then that I realized something,
Looking down at the girl with red tears,
Who's empty green eyes used to shine with laughter,
And who's immense joy used to be envied by everyone,
Was actually . . . myself.