My tears welled up
with little warning.
They filled my eyes
and then spilled out.
There was no sadness
and no mourning,
I wondered what it was about.
I think the reason
that the tears
run down our face in rivulets
is that they wash away our fears
and selfish thoughts one sometimes gets.
It's true that heartache is the mother
of all the tiny drops of dew.
But we don't shed tears for another.
So, when I cry - it's not for you.
Self-pity makes the raindrops fall,
when angels cry for people's sins.
The same occurs, or not at all,
when inside us that devil grins.
And nothing's changed since we were kids,
we had our tantrums then, to get
what we desired, that was it.
We cried when our pants were wet,
and when we wanted special treats,
were hungry, thirsty, hot or cold.
But, do we cry when someone meets
disaster, sickness or great loss?
Or does our inner teardropkeeper,
who shapes the drops and gives them gloss
say 'GO' in awe of the Grim Reaper?
Well, now you know
we never weep
predominantly for mankind.
Our eyes run over
when we keep
self-pity in our inner mind.
Herbert this is a great poem so well said, on the subject emotional release the safety valve of life, even today i still throw a couple of tantrum's per week the kid's soon sort me out, thank's for keeping an eye on my spelling herbert You make a good watch dog Warm regard's allan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good. An honest, sensitive observation.