Tear
It saunters down a cheek,
its trail dying
before its meaning
It settles before
a meticulous cut...
and drips
It wastes a tensive strength
and weaves a string
One end tied to nothing
but pent up
It guides
itself further south
to no ending
but still drips
Chills compete
and rainfall freezes,
And yet, it childishly calls itself
a tear
Copyright © Lebo Bopalamo | Year Posted 2019
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