Tears

November 2, 2007
By Calla Holmes-Robbins, Chesterton, IN

Tears run down my face,
One tickles my nose,
It drops of onto my tongue,
Wet and salty.
The tears run down my face,
Making tracks along my cheeks,
Tracks like little rivers of tears
Ending at my chin.
And the tears run down my face.
I lie in my bed and wonder, why.
Why do I cry?
The tears do nothing to help the misery in the world.
But they help.
They run unchecked down my face.
The warmth, then the cold, brings me back to reality.
Why do I cry?
The tears run down my face.
Why do I cry?
I cry for the children who will never know their fathers.
I cry for the Fathers who will never know their children.
I cry for war,
And I cry for love.
And the tears run down my face.
Why? Why do I cry?
The tears make a pool on my pillow,
A pool of sorrow, a pool of loss.
The tears still fall.
I cry.
And the tears run down my face.


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