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My tears tell a story,
none is joy at all.
My tears tell a story,
let me tell you as they fall.
The first is always pity,
for myself and my esteem.
The second is now the feeling,
looking for an escape it seems.
the third, and the fourth are sorrow,
getting harder as more fall.
The Fifth is now the hatred,
for me and that is all.
The sixth, and seventh start depression,
going down that deep, dark path.
My eighth, and ninth are almost there,
my suicidal wrath.
And the tenth...
Well the tenth is when i lose it all,
and break down in a ball.
The tears i shed tell a story
all going up to ten.
And then it seems i lay back down,
and start this over again.

-Luna-