How little he knows me,

This gentle man,

How little he wants to know!

How little he wants to see!



I have a friend,

Who can’t stop weeping,

Not crying,

Weeping…

There’s a difference you know-

Crying, cleanses the soul,

Refreshes the flesh…

But weeping,

Weeping makes you weary-

Drags you down into a sadness so deep

You have no strength to even sleep…



And he said this man,

“Why can’t she just stop?

You did,

You’re not depressed anymore…”

And my heart plunged into a crevasse so vast,

That he could use my past,

Like it had no value

By the me,

he never knew-



Ah, My friend,

My sadness runs so deep it pierces the bone,

My heart so drawn and tight,

You could use it for a drum,

And no one gets in,

No one-





Over it?

I just don’t show it anymore,

I hid it deep inside,

Behind the smile everyone loves,

It only got used against me,

Misconstrue d,

To suit you…



So,

Look here if you dare-

Look here if you care,

But beware,

There are tears of sadness here,

Enough to make a river called Despair…

So wide a swimmer could never make it

To the other side…



Over it?

I thought you knew the reason

I can’t bear to be touched,

By even you…