I looked down from the sky,
From where I saw the dark of the night,
Swallow quietly the vision of my sight,
So I write with the tears from my eyes,
Flowing from the depth of my heart,
And falls of the salty liquid lits up my writing pad,
A thousand things have made me cry,
Yet, each and every has been a far cry,
From this one that has dug a hole so deep into my core,
And left me faltering this way without no cure.
Day 19 of 100.