A LITTLE GIRL CRIES

A little girl cries as she sits alone on the edge of her bed,
So perfectly made in her room so neat and

Moisture dropping upon my cheeks
My soul releasing
Clear droplets like the morning dew
Glistening on an aspen tree

Tears are

Tears

There it is again,
the unavoidable burning in my throat
that signals the trapped emotions of tears wanting to escape.

Quietly they fall, disturbing nothing.
No trace left behind as they vanish.
Yet their existence holds so much.
A clear morsel

Prettiness has dashed him awake
He has become nothing next to her power
Lost in his scattered tears

She has taken her stand
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