It’s music to my ears
that there’s gold in my tears,
spawning words for balladeers
or for others to recite.
For back when I was young,
every time that tears sprung
from my eyes, another’s tongue
stopped my crying with its might.
Intensely, it would scold
so my tears, I’d withhold.
But when flowing uncontrolled,
inspiration can ignite!
Not anyone foresaw
that what seemed like a flaw
was a well from which to draw
for the poems I would write.
When heart perceives a block
that the mind can’t unlock,
then the Soul must send a shock
to resolve the inner fight.
And teardrops melt this seal,
so my words can reveal
the collective pain we feel,
as we brave our human plight.
At long last, I can see
that my tears were the key!
What I do was meant to be;
words I write will shine a light.