Whats the point of crying,
When it doesn't change the fact,
That the pain will never end,
And the blade shall always come back,
Why would anyone ever try,
To see whats behind these broken eyes,
And to find out why i cry,
If they looked around,
And saw the living hell I'm in,
Then they wouldn't have to ask,
Why i cry,
And stain my checks,
And destroy these broken eyes,
All so more,
Whats the point of crying?
When everything will be same,
When I open up my broken eyes,
Nothing would have changed.
