Do you think?

I'm pretty?

Maybe that's why you're standing there,

But then again,

No sound ever comes out of your mouth,

It's like the silence comes into our conversation.

The silent tears

Roll down my face.

The answer,

Isn't it obvious

But I don't know what to think,

So would you please tell me?

No words come out of your mouth.

Silence is golden.

So what am I left to do?

Stand in the rain and let my sorrows in,

Or wait around the corner

For the answers

For the questions I am seeking for?

Do you know what to say?

Or are dumb blinded with

My tears?

The answer lies within the question:

Do you think I'm pretty?