Nancy Jones Poet I do not know?

Crying

Here are the tears.
The ones  I've denied
the ones I've lied about
over and over and over
the waterfalls
of conformity disguised.

Here are the tears.
The ones reflecting
the bright shiny sunshine
demanding my mouth
match some image
of bright blue eyes
smiling.

Here are the tears.
Six or seven
who goes to heaven
was your bread leavened
or did it have GMOs?
Did that make your toes
craven?

Here are the tears.
Hard to believe so many years
between your fears
and mine.
Hard to fathom, but me and the madam
and the lost man and the rapscalion
surely have something in common.

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