Tears
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a heart met on with buoyancy
yet wends to futures, dreamed
those hells retired 'midst clarity
and feigned regrets, so deemed
a bloody wine to crystal, clings
through age and aspects, clear
for sweetly manic lesser things
that bloom, 'tween lids, to tear
what little care that's given to
warm brine that stains a cheek
a hard and sooty-faced facade
that toil leaves there to streak
for whether its a trickling, sown
from thoughts or chanced a-lip
there bides inside a glistened own
one christened flow'r should drip
so pray the seed then taken root
thus weeps from bright or gloom
it matters not for thirsty hearts
whence from it sprouts, or whom
o bless'd the batting petals, soft
that spread with hopes, to gaze
ne'er question that, their journey -
their shimmered breadths, or ways.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2021
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