8

For all the pain,
waiting to see when it ends,
for my tears to stop,
as happy becomes sad,
my eyes sparkle with hate,
anger,
frustration,
there is nothing i CAN do.
nothing to hold to,
everything to lose.
I lost a path I made
never seeing my footprints before the dust rose.
It's too late
my dirty shoes slide through mud,
heavier than Hector's heart
when the world i know falls apart,
and i cannot find the time,
to write a verse or line,
describing my dry eyes,
cannot shape the words that pupils speak in silent misery.
Please let it rain,
so i can see god weep.
To make his tears my own,
and feel again.