Thursday, December 24, 2009

My Tears

Sometimes when I can't sleep I cry
My tears put babies to shame
I weep for the broken-hearted, the poor, the let down,
I weep for my own broken-heart
Controlling them is no longer an option
They roll down my face as a ball rolls down a hill
never stopping until it hits the bottom
Without notice the pillowcase becomes a basin slowing absorbing
each droplet into the air again.
Isn't that where the tears come from anyways?
The air?
It surrounds you
chokes you until eventually can't hold it in any longer
Then the flow begins

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