The millions and millions of tears I have cried,
The millions and millions of deserts I have dried,
Where do the tears go?

The jars and jars that could be filled,
Imagine all the oceans if they were to be spilled.
Where do the tears go?

Everytime I'm sad, and as they stream down my face,
they come down so fast, as if they were in a race,
Where do the tears go?

I wipe them off my burning cheeks,
It is not like they stay there for weeks and weeks,
Where do the tears go?

Record my lament; list my tears on your scroll
Are they not in your record? Down my cheeks they roll,
Jesus, where do MY tears go?

Every late night she would go to sleep to the sounds of the TV blaring and her father and mother yelling. She could never really tell what they were saying, they just sounded like loud mumbling. She would toss and turn to the noises, until she heard her mother storm up the stairs and slam her bedroom door, and her father throw a lighter at the wall and turn the TV up even louder. She'd wake up to silence in the morning, neither speaking to each other. He would never hurt them...physically, anyways...

He really did seem like an innocent man to her. He would throw around a few curses, and maybe knock something over, but he would never come close to hurting them. Her mother, however, knew there was something going on behind their back. The girl lived happily, thinking everything was going just fine. Sure, her father was fired, but...they would be okay...right? Her mother and father love each other...right?

She was in school, talking in the back of the class room to her neighbors, having a jolly time, when she heard her name being called over the intercom to come up to the front office. The class "ooooed" as she got up and walked down to the office, to see her mother there, keys in her hand, showing a fake smile, but still looking worried.

They drove and drove, until they came to the big city, where they weaved around sky scrapers in their small cars, to come to a hospital. They climbed the stairs and went up the elevators, and dashed down the halls. And what the girl found was not a pleasant sight. Her and her mother slowly crept in to a hospital room, to see her innocent dad laying in the hospital bed, IVs sticking every which way, scraps on his face, and a tear rolling down his cheek. She rushed to her father and stayed by his side until that night, where she was pulled out of the hospital room. Sobbing down the hallways, they finally made it to the car, and that night, the girl and her mother didn't exchange words.

The next day, she skipped school to spend time with her father in the hospital room. She would talk to him, just like old times, but it seemed as if he was hiding something. Later that day, he looked to her, tears in his eyes. He slowly, and calmly told her that he had been drinking too much, and had become an alcoholic. She didn't say anything...she just slowly left the room, her mother following.

They sat in the room where the payphones were. She was up against the wall, her face burried in her hands. She couldn't believe it, the family that she thought was perfect slowly going down the drains. She sobbed and sobbed while her mother made calls to friends, talking about the news.

They stayed with him until later that night, and that car ride was not silent, but filled with the girls sobs. "Why us? Why us?" she repeated in her cries. Then, a voice came to her, a voice she had never head before. "Philipians 4:13, I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me," she repeated over and over until laughter came to her. After that, that car ride was filled with laughs.

Her father recovered, and they picked him up at the hospital. He looked so weak, and so embarrassed. This was not her super hero that she looked up to. Where did he go? On the way home, they stopped at a rehabilitation center. The girl waited patiently with her mother in the lobby as they showed him around. Her mother talked to her about how peaceful it was around the house while he was gone, and the only thing the girl could do was agree, even though it broke her heart.

Things around the house after that week were even more tense for everybody. He denied everything. The girl and her mother stayed upstairs most of the time while her father stayed in the basement.

A long, painful year later, things were starting to look up for the family. Her mother and her father were getting along a bit better, which made the house a better place for the girl. The girl thought everything would be fine, and that they could keep living like they were...but little did she know what would happen next....

I love to write and express my soul,
Being famous and rich is not my goal.
I want to show my feelings in a whole new way,
I don't think I would ever do this for pay.

Writing is my joy, what I love to do,
It helps me deal with all I have been through.
Have a bad day? Get out my journal,
and write away....

Daddy, where'd you go?
I need you so.
You were my best pal.
And I was your gal.

Daddy, you changed on me.
Your so different now, sadley.
Your addictions got in the way.
Now I can't see you everyday.

Mom couldn't take it anymore.
Went through the door.
Me holding her hand.
Putting our stuff in the moving van.

I looked back once at dad.
he was looking so sad.
I waved and turned around.
My heart hit the ground.

We went to our new home.
So little and alone.
We slowly unpacked our stuff.
That part was very rough.

I sat there and cried.
Apart of me died.
I saw him standing there.
He didn't think it was fair.

Daddy, please come back.
I need what I lack.
A father, a friend.
Someone I can trust 'til the end.