Raindrops scatter over open air.
Flying like leaves in fall.
Cupped in my hands
A small pool of tears.
No body's in particular,
But I found them slipping from my eyes
As a teenager out her bedroom window.
These tears were different.
The color of liquid gold,
But to everyone else,
They were clear
Like air.
Never to touch the ground in shame.
A silent breeze gathered and stirred these tears.
Ripples small,
Grew larger and larger.
Who am I to take that away?
Like the old woman that sat on the street corner.
She, with her childlike grace,
Even in her old age,
Could never understand,
Fathom how I feel.
No, these tears were not for me.
Not for my lover,
Nor for anyone else.
No, these tears were for everyone.
For the love I felt for the world.
No matter how corrupt,
No matter how wrong,
No matter how judgmental,

Deep inside everyone,
There is a small pool of tears,
Waiting to be shed for mankind,
These tears are pure.
These tears are beautiful.
These tears are yours.
So that you might remember how special life really is.

Feel the tears of child-like grace.
The love of a mother much desired.
How they shimmer.
Gold and silver,
Slipping through fingers.
Gently washing the Earth with tides of right.
Forgive the wanton child.
Praying to the loveless God in the dead of night.
Only tangible.
Only special.
The tears for mankind.