By Donnalyn Weir
Crying on that dark corner
Is a suffering prisoner
The blood is the tears she has cried.
Tears that she's been trying to hide
Her heart thirsts for some love
A love that she’ll never have
She’s like a dying flower
In the desert, begging for a drop of water
Finding her happiness is next to never
Her agony and sorrows will be forever
Everybody despises her
No one wants her near.
Her hopeful eyes want to see
Even just a glimpse of light
But she knows the tunnel is so dark
That even a little light can’t spark.
Where can she find her happiness?
How will she stop her own madness?
Where is her real place?
In heaven… maybe its where it is.