A Gypsum Salt Mine Fills Marys Eyes Poem by Mark Heathcote

A gypsum salt mine fills Mary's eyes
diamond tears milk a tear duct
what has dissolved has seen
another lonely, upchucked
heart; back on earth - conceit
here no real value grows
in fertilising of a seed
where thorns;
are more cherished than-a-rose
Mary just cries clutching a crown
a crown of thorns
as Roman the soldiers mock the world
three times
who shall pay for their crimes
when gypsum salt mines
fills all our minds
all our eyes.