Sometimes when I contemplate how many people hate me I cry. My tears roll down a bronco sleeve and land upon my writing desk. Often I push my tears around literally, with my finger and trace my heart’s desire. As the tears begin to dwindle I retrace their sorrow to understand the depression of their life. A full circle of life, a half cup of hope. Regardless the amount of tears and the amount of traces I do they never stay. They always die.



9 thoughts on “Tears

Share your opinion

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s