The Teardrops run down,
And fall off her nose,
She cried in dark corners,
Where nobody goes,
You can follow the tracks,
From her eyes to her chin,
Year upon years,
Of letting them win,
And her eyes tells a story,
Of anger and pain,
You think that she's happy,
But just look again,
And the scars of her past,
Hidden under her clothes,
Are roadmap to places,
That nobody knows,
Her smile is now painted,
She's a master of disguise,
And maybe you can see it all,
Just look into her eyes.***
🅰🆄🆃🅷🅾🆁'🆂 🅽🅾🆃🅴
Within your mystry a pain lies dwelling , a realisation ,
No one will ever know the real you.
YOU ARE READING
༺ 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕍𝕠𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟 ༻
Poetry𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 ... 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗....... 𝚂𝚘...