Tear stains on your pillowcase, a sure unhappy sign
of anguished nights, no bright lights, precious young daughter of mine
Your demons came and left at will, no calling card required
They seized your mind, left little behind, your face so drawn and tired.
Crying out in the dark, like dog howl and bark
so desperate you were to leave your mark
Yet you denied all those who tried, yes tried, to help you
love you, hold you, hug you, save you.
So here I stand in this last room you slept in
packing up your clothes, your books, your art
I feel your pain and I'm half expecting
to hear you crying in the dark.