If a tear could speak,
what would it say?
Would it lament over bygone memories,
or a path that went astray?
Would the tear speak of laughter
in the face of ruin and defeat?
Or would that tear speak of joy
held in the heart where no one can see?
Would that tear be in mourning,
the heartbreak of a lost love?
Or would its words be bitter,
A festering rage it can’t rise above?
Would the tears words speak of such beauty,
To behold, you can only weep?
Or would those words open an old wound
that cuts into the soul so deep?
The tear is the silent witness
to everything we feel
Every moment that we laugh,
And every scar that will never heal.
For every tear that escapes,
you give a little of yourself away,
a portion of your heart and soul
in voiceless tears that fall like rain.
Heather L. Flood