Tears Of My Poem Poem by Leaking Pen

The curtains are drawn to a tight close,
And the last visitors in my life are gone.
I am alone at home with my weathered art,
And holding in my mind's eye my feeble heart.

People and friends used to idolize me,
For my youth, my charms and perceived wealth.
They all lead to my downfall and steel emotions,
Like Britain's demise and its dormant locomotion.

No one understands what's happening inside of me,
Unlike the bright sheen that fate left on my skin.
It blinded relatives and friends from the pain I hid,
Even pain itself can't measure the length of my skid.

I am worn out like a dead volcano,
Void of life's lava and its energy..
What do greedy prospectors see in me?
But the potentials they wish their luck to be.

My forest green now stripped down to its core,
And my trees are bare and distressed.
Winter claws caused my forest to shed
Its last Autumn hope but not my poem's dread.

Once I knew love and everlasting peace
And I gave it my all and made my friends wonder
How does my soul lift its heavy weight?
And hauls away my anxiety's perilous freight.

No one can witness or understand my burden,
Where in seclusion, I remove my veil late at night.
Like poverty or ones destitute, is my sole journey,
Where the devil's counsel is my soul's attorney.

Do not cry for me for I do not need,
Your empathy or a heart felt sympathy.
But instead open your eyes to human misery,
And help me step away from all tyranny.

Tears of my poem burn from all the lies,
And from so much hurt and my lonely cries.
Promise in hope is a commodity bought and sold,
In today's worldwide black markets, truth be told.


September 18,2012
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
Rev Nov 6th 2014