I saw a girl with rain in her eyes,
Who was a little too confused,
She tried to hide her truth in her lies,
Said she’s fine, but I wasn’t amused.

Saying okay, I left her alone for the night,
Wondering how to make her smile,
That’s what this is for, this poem that I write,
For that pain she keeps in that useless heavy pile.

A pile that makes her heart sink,
By the sheer weight of its own,
Leaving her in a world of thoughts to think,
Of her imagination foregone.

But such a pile should be left untouched,
So it can gather a lot of dust,
For if the sight of it hurts her so much,
Then gather dust it must!

Her life is not a mystery,
For someone to come and solve,
It is hers to live and love, be free,
From the shackles around which she revolves.

And there are always things, that are better left unsaid,
Thoughts, that better not be thunk,
For the pain grows, the more it is fed,
Making sober minds drunk!