I would see a sad, lonely face.
Staring at me with a glare that projects hate,
But means sorrow.
If I let words pour out of my mouth right now what would I say?
I might tell you a story, or a lie.
But it wouldn't matter because you wouldn't listen anyway.
If I went outside the rain would stream down my face,
Mixed with tears.
And this doesn't need to mean anything,
So don't try to make it have a meaning,
Because that's not the point.