Wake up in the morning,
Put on my perfectly painted eyes.
Why do I even bother?
Lately it seems,
They've been the worst, but greatest thing about me.
But when no one's looking,
They don't know how ugly they can get.
My perfect blue eyes,
Lined with black and brushed with pink,
Turn red and watery.
My perfectly painted eyed,
Become clouds,
Clouds letting down puddles of black and gray.
But no one will ever know.
Because after it rains,
The sun comes out and everything dries.
And after I cry,
I put back on my perfectly painted eyes,
Lined with black and brushed with pink.

 
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