Sometimes,
The vital pain is such,
And hurts so much,
There is no place to hide,
And you cry,
As if the eye,
Were the torrent that magnifies,
Pain thru tears,
As Time embers the fading Past.
Our lives are like dried flowers,
That slowly lose their sun,
Searching the shadow cast,
By our dreams and hopes and fears,
Knowing that nothing in Life is certain,
But made up of some rare smiles and unshared tears.
I have more than my share of unshared tears but I also have a glut of smiles. I hope they balance out
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is said the eyes are windows to the soul...And because of this verse I'll now also think of them as the windows through which tears and pain find their way to the rest of the world. A great poem, Sandra.