| Arianna Morton
Day 71
Poem; Lang arts
Name; That Single Teardrop
That single teardrop,
The one that crawls off your face like a shadow walking by,
Like a lost old friend returning to say 'hi',
That single teardrop,
The one that seeps into your paper as you write that note,
While going over all the other things you wrote,
That single teardrop,
The one that's in that picture yearning for goodbye,
But is lost in ink and will never understand why,
It crawls to tiptoe back,
And show remnants in the light,
As it smudges what you once wrote as you continue to write,
But now captured as a memory,
But only showed in nightmares,
It can only come and go- when no-one understand nor cares,
That one single teardrop,
One to call for home,
Only to realise its all left alone,
That one single teardrop,
The one smeared on your sweater,
Stained as your tried to write that letter,
That one single teardrop,
The one that left mascara as blush,
While making sure it was a good day to rush,
It rings on the phone,
For nothing but a chuckle,
As the clothes are now clean,
Including the belt buckle,
Now to wipe the smudge as if the salty mildew is faded,
That one single teardrop made the others get baited.
The end |
