The tears slip slowly out
as the eyes overflow,
streaks run down the face
while tears fall so slow.
No hand is there to catch them,
to wipe away the mess,
no strong and gentle fingers
to soothe with a caress.
The sobs are long and jagged,
though with some attempt to muffle
they quietly mix with night
and to the heaven's shuffle.
No one is there to stop them,
to say it'll be alright,
no one is there to comfort
so the cries find only the night.
No one is there to help,
no one answered the call,
no one seems to care
so the tears continue to fall.