tears,
She came from a background that held no colours,
She came from a family that had no wealth,
She came from the love of two naive yet kind youths,
She came from the city streets, the streets that contained dirty wealth.
Unlike others, she learnt not to cry,
Unlike her peers, she learnt that friends were of no use,
For when you're holding on to your life,
They are the first people to push you, into darkness.
Dreams, she gave up long ago,
Love, she knew was nonexistence,
Tears, a useless thing, like many other things,
Heart, it was hardened, unable to let anything in, or out.
Sitting upon her jet-black leather chair,
Looking down to the busy road and streets,
She grinned, and asked herself, "You don't care,"
And adjusted her blazer, glad she made the right choice.
Yours Truly, Jean.
She came from a family that had no wealth,
She came from the love of two naive yet kind youths,
She came from the city streets, the streets that contained dirty wealth.
Unlike others, she learnt not to cry,
Unlike her peers, she learnt that friends were of no use,
For when you're holding on to your life,
They are the first people to push you, into darkness.
Dreams, she gave up long ago,
Love, she knew was nonexistence,
Tears, a useless thing, like many other things,
Heart, it was hardened, unable to let anything in, or out.
Sitting upon her jet-black leather chair,
Looking down to the busy road and streets,
She grinned, and asked herself, "You don't care,"
And adjusted her blazer, glad she made the right choice.
Yours Truly, Jean.