Tears
It comes with a lump on the throat,
Conceived by a gripping pain.
In the absence of comfort sought,
There's a need for release again.
First formed with a deep sigh,
A quiver of the lips tries withholding
That tiny dropp from the eye
From eventually...finally, falling.
As the weight from the heart breaks,
It flows with abandoned speed.
A torrent of drops the eyes forsake,
The water of relief, tears indeed.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Added by Poetry Lover
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