Drops Of The Soul Poem by Half Past

With each breath comes a shudder
from a guttural place
down deep in the body
emotion is stirred
you see the turbulence thru their eyes
the wringing of hands
the ever slight tremor in limbs
you can see them fighting it back
forcing the urge back down throat
only so long can they hold at bay
a push from inside
slowly the eyes well
so primal the feeling
it can't be fought
drops dangle precariously on eyelash
urged forward by those waiting to be unleashed
a cascade of the soul
little drops slide waywardly down cheek
rivers of memories trace their skin
etched on their canvas for all to see
a painted face of times gone by
liquid illustration of their past
drops of their soul given to you
openly on display