Each day as evening starts to set,
      The ache builds up in her chest.
    She knows that she must go to bed,
            And try to get some rest.

She hugs her tearstained pillow close,
            When no one is around.
  And cries for one she loved and lost,
        And screams without a sound.
 
           Others see her in the day,
          And think she's doing well.
        But everyday as evening sets,
            She enters her own hell.

    Time hasn't heard her pain at all,
               Or quieted her fears.
         So every night alone in bed,
         She sheds those silent tears.